#screaming in jordys face

[greedbent]

NATURE'S LITTLE SOUL WAS VOID OF IMPERTINENCE, for the child had been well - conditioned by the strictness of the matron, and obedience was almost innate; Kaz would never have to worry about any challenging of his authority or testing of firm limits. 

Oh, but there was something she felt just now … something truly overwhelming … a certain Something too much for a sensitive heart to bear, and it was stimulated by the sight of Kaz attempting to leave for the night to ( once again) deal with his many Important Adult Things—nothing out of the ordinary. 

And yet those little feet quickly pattered across those rickety, creaking floorboards, the child tripping nearly the whole way. Once Ari had finally reached the man wrapped in all shadows and gloom, her tiny hands gripped his sleeve and gave it a desperate, reminding pull — a gesture that screamed: I'm here! Don't forget me! 

She can expect to see him again sometime in the morning. Ari would not be alone, Kaz had made sure; his subordinates would diligently watch over nature's little soul in his absence, but tonight that fact was no comfort. Ari could not bear the separation—the painful distance between now and then. Her heart had control of her, not her mind, for the child had no fear of the consequences of her actions just now. 

Ari wanted Kaz. 

" p - peas … " Ari whispered in a shaky voice. Pleading—her eyes were pleading as she gave his sleeve one more tug. " I wa … wa … I … " 

Oh, how to say it? How to say it! How could she convince a man so stubborn—so seemingly unfeeling—to consider the terrible ache in her heart! Would he? Won't he? 

" I www … I want mr. Kassie to stuh … to stay … " 

@earthssprout || did we ask for a fresh serving of feels ?? 👏 yes we did!

Kaz was sure she had become used to this.

Like any common child watching their father walk out the door on the bright cusp of dawn, any child waking up to his absence when he'd left before the sun had even broken the horizon, any child knowing it would be supper that brought him back (if, indeed, it brought him back at all)— They had established a routine. Little Ariana knew this, was trained to expect it as much as she was trained to accept it.

She didn't give him trouble. No doubt due in equal parts to her steadfast obedience and the proper trepidation toward consequences from a man who would not permit any leniency. She was a good girl. And even in the face of that twinge of heartache she wore on her sleeve, Kaz was never swayed.

But what a strong word, “never.” He'd learn—one day—never to use it lightly.

For it was on this particular evening that the well-mannered little girl found a way to put her foot down. He was forced—another strong word; it wasn't like Kaz couldn't have kept walking—to stop when a pair of hands snagged him by the sleeve. Deep down, he knew if it had been anyone else, he would've cuffed them. He knew an unwanted touch, no matter where, was to be reprimanded, discouraged from ever happening again. Here, however, Kaz didn't even flinch.

He simply stopped. Turned. Looked down at her with sheer indifference. And yet listened as she begged.

A cry for him to stay. She wanted him to stay. She wanted him—

Was it trifling? Was it silly? Foolish? Oh, most certainly. The mind and heart of a child always were. Just like him. Just like that little boy toddling carelessly, thoughtlessly, happily at his older brother's side, clinging to his sleeve—yet to understand what true misfortune was, how it would eventually take him.

Did you ever even consider what you were doing, Jordie? To me.

Kaz studied her for a while. He tasted something bitter in the back of his throat, cleared it, peered up at the open door and the threshold he crossed most every night. He was resolved, but resolved to do something shocking to even himself.

“Rotty,” Kaz called out at the same time as he pivoted, tugged free from Ari's pleading grip, and stalked over to his desk again. He removed his hat and set it down alongside the pen he grabbed to begin scrawling a note. Only upon hearing approaching footsteps—recognizing them as the man summoned—did he say more: “I need you to deliver a message to the Van Eck estate.”

All too quickly, he finished his writing with a flourish and folded the paper between two gloved fingers. Kaz moved back across the room to present it to the waiting Rotty. “And if Wylan and Jesper have any complaints about the hour, tell them they're lucky”—his attention trickled down to little Ari standing there pitifully at his side—“that I'm not the one delivering it tonight.”

[onsomenewsht]

De pelearnos y odiarnos y amarnos después

About when she was everything for you, but you were just one more fan

《 shout out to @p0orbaby for putting up with this shit, making it less shitty and being the only reason Alexia has feelings in the first place

》 Alexia Putellas x Reader

》 words count: +3.7k

》 player [noun]: 1. a person who participates in or is skilled at some game or sport; 3. an actor: a theatrical performer, a person who plays parts on the stage; 5. a person who engages in casual and indiscriminate sexual relationships.

Barcelona is not that big of a city if you stop and think about it.

Especially when you end up in the same places with the same people, especially when your circle of family and friends is pretty tight. Especially when you work in a world as small as the women’s football one.

You and Alexia Putellas crossed paths a lot of times before coming up with the brilliant idea of braiding and twisting your lives together.

And it was fun.

Until it wasn’t anymore.

“I got your coffee”

“Oh, you’re still here”

The smile on your face doesn’t falter, even if her words will ricochet in your mind for a long time, so you keep sipping your coffee and mindlessly scrolling through your phone after booking your ride back home.

It’s quite early, you know she has training in an hour, but the late-night activities you indulged in must have tired the Catalan more than she expected as you woke up before her.

Usually, you don’t even find her in the apartment when you drift out of sleep, slowly collecting your things and leaving the empty place with a pair of keys to hide under a plant vase.

“I had time to go to the cafeteria around the corner, you slept through your first alarm”

“Why didn’t you wake me up?”, it’s not really a question as she sprints up to the bathroom.

It’s known Alexia is quite strict with her routine and her absolute devotion to her passion and profession, you’re not really phased about her rush. Eating the pasties that came with your drinks is a good enough distraction as you leave the blonde to her morning rituals.

Your ride is going to be ten whole minutes later than expected anyway.

“Thank you”, she smiles at you.

When she joins you in the kitchen, already dressed in training attire, it’s clear she will not indulge and sit to have breakfast with you. Not deeming her of a look, you hand the footballer her coffee and favourite treat.

How Alexia manages to turn your day upside down in a matter of moments, just with casually cruel words or well-placed kisses, still goes beyond you.

Her lips on your neck are a proven method and a really effective distraction to keep herself on your good side, she’s out of the door as soon as she hears your moan and feels your shoulders relax under her hands.

~

The club is packed as you make your entrance, the sudden change of temperature causing a shiver to go down your exposed back.

Despite the number of bodies dancing around each other, you spot your friends pretty easily – the loudest group in the most secluded corner of the place. Laughs and screams are thundering above the reggaeton music as you get closer.

“Here she is, the princess herself, blessing us commoners with her presence!”

“Fuck you”, you hit your best friend Jordi with a forceful punch on his shoulder but a genuine smile lighting up your features.

“Not my fault we can barely remember your face nowadays”

“Yet I still have to look at your stupid one”

He doesn’t mind your hand on his face, annoyingly shoving him off as you take a free seat at the table and greet all your other friends. It’s been a while since the last time you went out with them.

The night gets intense quickly as you finish your third drink and hit the dance floor with Jordi. You two have been friends since even before you can remember, learning to walk together and bonding over shared happy memories and sad heartbreaks.

He was the first person you came out to, not regretting telling him even when he laughed in your face, claiming he knew as well as your high school Maths professor did – maybe your crush was not as good of a secret as you hoped for.

You were the first person he confessed his fear of turning into his own father, not regretting telling you even when you booked him an appointment with a therapist and assured him that people are allowed to not like their own parents, but still love them in some twisted way.

Jordi is a great friend, the one you’re most comfortable with. That’s how you find yourself with your arms around his shoulders and his hands on your waist as the music blasts in the club.

It’s a freeing sensation, to be able to let yourself go in the secure embrace of someone you love.

You knew it was a matter of time.

A strange feeling crumbles from the pit of your stomach as another pair of hands circles you from behind, but you don’t think too much about it. Your body is always reacting to Alexia.

She doesn’t even have to touch you, somehow feeling her eyes on you the moment she entered the club with a bunch of cheering friends.

“Can I steal you for a dance?”

You nod with a smile before turning around in Alexia’s arms.

Jordi shoots you a raised eyebrow and a silent question, not amused with the whole situation and not quite happy with the way you’re handling this relationship with the blonde girl. He’s too supportive to say anything right this moment, but you know he has opinions – strong ones.

“He doesn’t like me”, her hands on your waist but her eyes fixed on Jordi.

“You don’t even know him”

“I don’t need to, he looks at me like I kicked his dog”

The tension is quite annoying for you, so you don’t even dignify her with an answer, merely acknowledging her disappointment by tracing her frown with your fingers. The Catalan hands are firmer as she pushes your bodies closer, following the music and the beats of your hearts.

“Wanna come to my place?”

“I’m here with my friends”, you half-smile, you told her a couple days ago you were going out to celebrate a colleague’s promotion.

“I leave for camp tomorrow”

You know, you plan a lot of your commitments around her crazy schedule.

~

All Alexia needs to do to convince you to leave the club is move her surprisingly caring hands up and down your exposed back, whispering nice words in your ear.

She has you wrapped around her fingers, and she has no shame in turning it in her favour.

Football is a family business, flowing in your veins for generations with a grandfather who played for Barcelona and both your parents involved on some level in the sport.

You played for a bit, realising quite early you didn’t have what it takes to go professional, but you found your path toward the green pitch anyway. Making a name as a sports lawyer was quite eventful, now you watch a football game with one eye on the ball and the other on paperwork.

Finding time to just sit there, be present, and enjoy your favourite club play without thinking of the legal repercussions is not easy, yet you manage. It still comes with huge repercussions on your mental health, but that’s part of the fun.

When Alexia crushed your life, you thought it couldn’t really influence your already massive passion for the sport. You already watched Barça games, and you even already know some of the players.

Oh, how wrong you were.

The Blaugrana captain is like a magnet, always able to catch your eyes and lock them on her for the entire 90 minutes, filling your mind and somehow making you body reacts to her every movement. You don’t miss a game, you spot her immediately on the pitch or on the bench.

You smile just knowing she’s doing what she loves.

“They better win or I’ll personally go down there to kick their ass”

You laugh at Mapi outburst. Despite her attitude, you know it pains her to be in the stands to support her friends on the international stage, hidden behind a cap. Telling her how much you admire her stance on such an important cause, no matter the consequences on her own life, is not enough. You’re committed to changing the game for her too.

“Three goals are a lot to overcome”, Ingrid points out with a teasing smile.

“What side are you on?”

“Yours, always”

Seeing the Norwegian kiss her girlfriend’s hand puts a smile on your face, making it easier to bite down the bittersweet taste of jealousy for the amazing relationship they have.

Like if something shakes you, you drift your eyes on the pitch right on time. Alexia is going for a run as Aitana sends her a beautiful pass on her left. You’re on your feet even before the ball finds the back of the net and the crowd erupts in cheers.

Then Jenni is on her side and Alexia lets the tall woman hug her, smiling.

The celebration is cut short, there isn’t time to lose, but you can see something sparkling in the footballer’s eyes as she indulges in it a little, spurring the supporters to be louder when she retrieves the ball to restart the game as soon as possible.

Her teammates pat her back as they get back in position, getting just nods and prompts to keep the momentum going.

Is strange, the uneasy feeling that spreads inside your stomach. Your hands are closed in fists but your legs are trembling, as if your body can’t tell you’re on quite cramped seats.

Spain doesn’t manage to overcome the three goals, despite the team’s best efforts. You know the captain will be in a sour mood for who knows how long, and she’s not going to come to you for comfort – not the one you’re willing to give her anyway.

~

You don’t mean to overhear the conversation, you don’t even mean to be there in the first place.

A national team representative pulls you aside after noticing you on the stands and asks to talk to you – or better, trying to talk you out of a legal wrangle between the federation and one player you represent.

It’s a useless attempt, but you’re not ashamed to admit you enjoy quite a lot letting those men think they can overpower you.

You were just there, right behind the doors.

He guides you just outside the stadium, talking over himself. The first argument is reasonable enough, you can admit, but you lose interest pretty easily.

As soon as the players start to exit the facility, post-game rituals cut short after the defeat, you immediately take it like the best way out of the conversation.

“Cheer up, Ale, let her kiss it better!”, Jenni mocks the blonde with a tattooed arm around her shoulder.

“Shut up!”

“Don’t tell me there’s trouble in paradise already”

“No paradise, no troubles”, Alexia mumbles back, stopping by the door.

They’re probably waiting for someone, unaware of your frozen form just around the corner. A couple of steps, and they would see you. A couple of steps, and this torture would end. Yet you can’t move and they’re still arguing.

“She’s around a lot more, she sleeps at your place–”

“That happens when you have a fuck buddy, I can’t control what she does”

You never hear her talking about you with such spite, such annoyance in her voice. Alexia is not the best one when it comes to expressing her feelings, but you think she’d talk about your relationship with some emotion. Any kind of emotion, but this.

“Oh, come on! You’re cute together–”

“Jenni, drop it”, the Catalan’s tone is harsh and final, “We’re nothing at all”

You’d hope some respect is granted with the intimacy of it all.

Well aware your relationship is not defined by any terms, the casually cruel honesty in her words makes your head spin regardless.

You know the nature of the bond between the two of you is built on sex, physical attraction, and convenience for more than one reason.

When a couple of players finally exit the facility, Alexia is in the back of the group with a deep frown on her face. Your eyes meet immediately and you can easily tell she wishes you could disappear as much as you do.

~

“Are you fucking joking?”

“I said I’m sorry!”, the blonde scoffs as she reaches for her abandoned shirt in a corner of your bedroom.

Hiding the marks on your neck and on her thighs will be more difficult.

“That’s it, you say you’re sorry and that’s it for you”, you fear she doesn’t even know what she’s sorry for.

“I genuinely don’t understand, what do you want from me?”

“I want you to fucking care!”, you rise from your bed, marching toward her before she has the time to leave the room – not minding the height she has on you, “I want you to at least acknowledge your mistake, to really apologise for disrespecting–”

“My mistake?”

When she snorts right on your face, you lose it, shaking your head in disbelief. It’s pretty easy to believe though, it’s not the first time Alexia does or says something that genuinely hurts you and doesn’t even realise what the problem is.

This one time her dismissive behaviour and stubbornness are a bit too much.

The athlete tries to get your attention back, seeing you dressing up and pretending she’s not even in the room anymore.

It takes everything on you to ignore her hands and pleading words.

“You’re overreacting”

“You really should go, Alexia”

“Can we talk about it?”

“About what? You don’t think you have anything to apologise for, you have no idea how much you keep hurting me. Fuck, you were ready to leave a moment ago!”

Opening the front door for her, you feel her eyes studying your body as to read your mind and her action burning inside you in a way you can just hope will not scar you permanently.

Alexia has so much power over you.

You want to hold it all against her, keeping close to the last amount of respect you have for yourself. You want to scream in her face how disregarding she is, how much she keeps shaming your relationship. You want to lay out for her all the actions and all the feelings she has shown you so far, both full of love and full of shit.

“I’ll call tomorrow”

“Please, don’t”, you plead as you invite her to leave one more time.

“Then happy birthday”

Her lips on your forehead burn like a mark.

~

“This is bullshit!”, Alexia mumbles as she drops the papers with the speech you helped her write and rehearse for the past hour.

She has an interview on a famous British sports TV show in a couple of days, they give her a whole segment to talk about the development of women’s football in Europe, about her foundation, and her plans for the future. Then they informed her she should do it in English.

“I think is impressive you can hold your own in your third language, but you can’t pronounce this phrase to save your life”

“I think you’re making fun of me”

“I am, indeed”, you admit with a genuine smile on your face, reaching for her speech to find a way around the words for her.

The footballer watches as you revise the script one more time, her frustration softened looking at your pen dancing around the papers and your tongue trapped between your lips – a sign of your focus, she learned.

“I will cook dinner while you’re on it”, she states, rising from the spot on the sofa before you can meet her eyes.

It happens sometimes, Alexia could prove to you her effort, even her care, with nice little gestures out of nowhere.

A full breakfast could appear on your kitchen table as you wake up late after a long and rough night with the blonde, who left the apartment with the first rays of sunshine.

A ticket for a concert could light up your phone with a few days’ notice, making you cancel any plan and jumping in anticipation for what looks a lot like an actual date.

A bunch of flowers could be delivered at your place without an apparent reason, following weeks of radio silence, but you learned to read her inability to express gratitude with words when you hold her body and soul firmly after a particularly tough training session or media day.

There could be random gestures and small details, making you feel a fleeting sense of stability and a bittersweet taste of how it could be to be loved by Alexia.

~

“I think she could actually love you, if she tries”, Jordi states out of nowhere, half-empty drink in his hand and eyes fixed on your friends having their first dance.

“Excuse me?”

“The fucking queen of football”

“Yeah, I figured. Where’s that even coming from?”

Trembling hands find invisible creases to smooth on your dress, not a good enough distraction from everything around you. Your friends really went on and beyond with the wedding reception, soft music surrounding them as basically all the guests form a circle around couple.

“Just saying”

“You don’t even like her”, you bite back.

“I don’t like how she makes you feel”

“She makes me feel good too”

Letting her hurt you in the process, waiting for a change of heart that may never happen, makes you hate yourself a little bit. Never Alexia, just yourself.

The pity you let wash over yourself is enough to turn your cheeks red with embarrassment and something else you’re not quite ready to admit.

You know she’d love you, the signs are all there.

You know she knows too.

“You should put yourself first”, he finds your hand, holding it firmly.

The music changes subtly as your friends start to join the couple at the centre of the dance floor with their partner.

“You should go dance with Angelica, she can put up with you only so much”

~

You start to question if your love alone can bridge the gap between your lives.

Alexia welcomes you into her apartment more often, having dinner or sharing silent coffees in the morning instead of just letting you stay long enough to satisfy your needs.

And then fall off the face of the earth, ignoring your futile attempts to reach out.

Alexia invites you to nights out with her friends. Her hand holds possessively any part of your body within reach, sending cold stares to anyone who could move too close around you or no less touch you in a shy effort to get your attention.

And then pretends you’re not even there in the first place when someone calls her out on her behaviour.

Alexia saves her jersey for you after an important win, putting the piece of clothing on you herself in the family and friends section. She ignores her sister’s tease to turn the conversation around, talking about details of the game and weekend plans.

And then asks you to come up with some excuse to not attend the same plans she made right in front of you, the same plans you’re invited to by the people she loves most.

Alexia gives you something that looks a lot like love and then takes it all back, ripping away your affection and care without looking back at your deeming light.

“We need to talk”, she greets you into her apartment with unusual gravity and her lips curved at a strange angle.

“Hello to you too”

Fighting fire with fire is one thing you had to learn as your relationship with the Catalan grew, both in your heart and in your life – intertwining and rubbing off every single moment of your day and night.

Alexia takes the cold shoulder with almost a guilty nod, knowing inside she’s the reason for your harsh words and uneasy attitude around everyone lately. You show her colours she didn’t even know existed, and she manages to take them away from you.

“We should stop this”

You turn her voice off as soon as you register her decision.

The footballer tells you that this relationship, this agreement, isn’t working anymore. That you’re hurting each other. That she’s hurting you. She admits she needs to focus on herself, on giving everything she still has in her career.

She says you deserve better, you deserve someone who gives you as much attention and care as you give to them.

Not a sentence, not a single word, or apology matters.

A wave of shame washes over you as soon as you realise she has to be the one to end it all, granting you more respect than you had for yourself.

You stop her speech midway with a raised hand, you accept her decision with a knowing grimace, and you leave her apartment without looking back – allowing her to make any trace of tears disappear from her face.

~

In the weeks that followed, it became clear how deeply your lives intertwined over the time you spent together.

You have to buy a new set of your favourite body wash, your last one still in Alexia’s bathroom. The book you’re reading is still unfinished, letting you questioning if the sister was actually the murderer, as you remember you left it face down somewhere in her apartment. You accept the promotion they offered you months ago, booking a one-way ticket for a city that’s definitely not Barcelona but looks a lot like a new beginning.

You park up memories and try to let go of the hurt, both for yourself and for the end of something you know it’d be beautiful.

It was beautiful, but it was ugly and painful too.

When you find yourself in the stands of a filled stadium, surrounded by high-profile men in suits and the most influential people in football, you can’t hold back your genuine smile as soon as Alexia scores a last-minute goal, securing her team the victory.

You’ll always be Alexia’s supporter, even if that’s the only rule you’ll ever play in her life.

fine.

[just-jordie-things]

WAAAAH thing about playfighting w megumi (;_;)

he always tries to suppress his giggles but he just can’t help it!!!!! i love thinking about silly soft boyfie megumi he makes me Sob.

what are ur thoughts?!?! keep up the good work!!

ᕦ(ò_óˇ)ᕤ

nonnie I've been reduced to a silly girl with a silly crush. how should i tell my partner i am taken by a fictional man.

___

play fighting with megumi has become your love language. it might seem silly but it's the best way to reduce him to blushing and giggles.

he's sitting in bed reading? sneak attack! you throw yourself into his lap with a delighted squeal. but his distraction was a farce! he knew what you were going to do, and was quick to toss his book to the side to flip you over and pin you down. he teases you for falling for his trap as he tickles you.

but you're feistier than he is, and you know just how to trick him.

kisses. your trap is kisses.

but he always gives in! it's too easy to pepper his face with kisses and fool him into thinking you're done with play fighting. silly boy, you think, as you wrap your arms around him and flip him over again.

this sends you both off the bed with a loud thud, but neither of you are bothered as you go back to trying to pin his arms down while he's trying to throw you onto your back again.

you're so lost in your giggling and squirming around, that you don't hear the scurry of footsteps nearing megumi's door.

"surrender" you playfully growl in megumi's face when you successfully hold both his wrists above his head.

"never" he raises his head to be closer to your face. there's a playful look in his eye, hiding something more mischievous behind it because, after all, this is fun because he quite enjoys having you on top of him.

"then face my wrath!" you're practically cheering, but before you can deliver your rain of terror, megumi's door slides open.

"WHAT HAPPENED!?" yuuji screeches.

"ARE YOU DYING?" nobara's scream follows.

both pause in his doorway as they see what the ruckus was all about.

you and megumi are in a rather compromising position, on the floor, the sheets tangled around you from your sudden fall, your faces inches apart and you're still pining his wrists to the ground.

megumi tilts his head backwards, giving his friends an upside down glare, while you just grin at them, finding the whole thing entertaining.

yuuji awkwardly apologizes, swiveling around and nearly running away from the scene. nobara's face contorts into disgust.

"gross!" she hollers, before slamming the door shut and chasing after yuuji while wailing something about bleaching her eyes.

megumi tilts his head to look up at you, furrowing his brows in annoyance.

"what, you embarrassed, 'gumi?" you tease with a smirk.

"they could learn to knock" he grumbles back.

"not like they walked in on anything that bad," you muse, lowering your face so your lips could ghost over his. "although they'll pro'lly leave us alone for a while"

sneaky girl, megumi smirks and finally pulls his hands out of your hold so he could wrap his arms around you and pull you completely down against him, slamming your lips together.

"i still won, by the way" you don't miss the chance to remind him of your victory, as soon as his lips trail away from yours and trace along your jaw.

when you finally get up off the ground, megumi picking you up gently to bring you back to the bed, you pull your finishing move, pushing all of your body weight onto him to make him fall onto his back on the mattress. you pin him again, giggling with glee as you do so.

he's flustered, because his mind had been elsewhere, but he can't help but burst into giggles with you, because you look so happy whenever you 'beat' him.

"i win again!" you declare.

distracting him with kisses always worked.

___

icanticanticant the idea of doing this is ruining my fucking life

xoxo ~ jordie

[helen-with-an-a]

The Object that stood in the way of a World Cup pt. 2

Hi. So here is part 2 (it will have more parts ahahaha - I am incapable of writing small things)

Part 1 : Part 2 : Part 3 : Part 4 : Part 5 : Epilogue

Ona Batlle x Reader

Flashbacks are in italics.

TW: Injury, suggestiveness, Vilda

Word Count: 3.5k

Description: R gets hurt

It was the final 10 minutes of the game. You were exhausted. England were down 1-0 and you felt like you were fighting for your life. You had the ball at your feet as you pushed forwards. You had made a simple pass to Lucy as you started your run up the pitch. It was a perfect cross back as you arrived near the box. You could feel it, this ball was going into the back of the net.

Something icy and white hot exploded in your leg. You didn’t even know what had happened.

One minute, you were pulling your leg back for a perfect strike, and the next … agony. The silence of the crowd told you it was something bad. The lack of arguing on the pitch told you it was something really bad. You wanted to move, to stand up and continue playing. You had to stand up. All you could see were legs. The pain was growing with every second. It scared you more that people were stopping you from seeing it. That only happened when it was really bad. You were quickly becoming a danger to yourself. Thrashing around – trying to escape the pain, trying to see what was happening to your body. You were petrified. Lucy clasped one of your hands, Alex pressed a hand on your stomach, Cata held your head, and Aitana held your other hand, all attempts to stop you from moving. You think it was Mariona and Millie who were trying to keep your other leg still. All of them trying to talk to you, to calm you down enough for the medics to do their jobs.

“Hey,” Alessia called out to a frozen Ona. Ona hadn’t been anywhere near you when it happened. She couldn’t have stopped the tackle, even if she knew how to. “She needs you.” Tooney gently shoved Ona in your direction. They might not have known what had transpired that fateful day in Manchester, but they knew how deep your love ran for Ona. Alessia had shared a room with you at every international camp. She saw the red shirt you slept in. At first, she thought it was an old United shirt – until she saw the Spanish crest over your heart. The pair of them saw the kiss you pressed to Ona’s hairline as you engulfed her in a hug after the Spain game at the Euros, whispering sweet words into her ear as she finally allowed herself to cry. Tooney saw Ona gently push a stray piece of sweaty hair out of your face in the tunnel after the Euros final, standing too close to be just friends, both of your smiles blinding. They saw the book and rose you left in Ona’s cubby on Sant Jordi. They saw how Ona looked to you first before making any decisions – no matter how small. They saw the devastated Ona look on the first day back at training in January.

Your pained screams eventually snapped Ona out of it. She was suddenly shoving Cata out of the way and replacing her at your head. Even in your pain, you recognised the rough but soft hands and blunt nails that scratched your head. You stopped writhing as Ona placed gentle kisses on your hairline. You stopped screaming as Ona softly shushed you, promising everything would be fine. As the medics carted you away, all the Ona could think about was how to make this right with you. She was moving to Barca after the summer. She was fairly sure you knew, but she couldn’t know for sure as nothing had been officially announced yet. She could tell by your reactions that somewhere, somehow, she was still a calming presence to you. You had always told her that.

You were pacing around your flat. From the counter to the table, table to the fridge, fridge to the couch, couch across to the TV, TV back to the counter. You had been walking in a loop for almost an hour now.

“Amor, calm down. She’s going to call.” Ona laughed, but she was still slightly concerned.

“But what if she doesn’t?” Your voice was weaker than Ona had heard in a while.

“She will. You have received a phone call from the Lionesses every camp since you were what? 19? She will phone.” It was 3.30 pm. On the day of the Euros squad, phone calls. You knew Sarina did it randomly. She had said as much when she first became manager. That way, no one can be sure they were bubble players. That way, no one’s egos could get too big. Ona had already had her phone call yesterday. There was a flurry of Spanish, and she had been a mix of emotions. She was terrified of the camps themselves. Sleep deprivation. The harshness from the coaches. The emotional and mental abuse. The borderline physical abuse. But she was so excited to be back in Spain with her friends. She loved Manchester, but she loved being around her people, where she didn’t have to translate everything in her head first or be the last one to laugh since she had to interpret the jokes into her native language.

“But what if she doesn’t?” This was the one thing Ona disliked about you – your inability to understand just how great you were. Not just at football. Yes, you were incredibly talented. Your ability to read the pitch, to pick out players and send perfect crosses to them, your technical skills with the ball were unparalleled. She didn’t doubt a Ballon d’Or was coming your way. But you were so much more than football. You were kind, and gentle, and honest, and funny, and beautiful – so beautiful. But you couldn’t see it.

“If Sarina doesn’t call…” she began, “which won’t happen”, she added quickly as your eyes widened. “You can just be my WAG. Sound good?” A peel of laughter erupted from you. If she could make that sound escape your lips every day, she would die incredibly happy. As you were about to open your mouth to respond, a buzzing cut you off. SARINA flashed across your screen. Ona made ‘go on then’ gestures at you as you panicked for a split second.

The phone call was short and sweet—just like every other phone call. You liked that it was to the point. As you hung up the phone, Ona came charging at you, pushing you back onto the sofa and kissing across your face. “You know… I’m kind of sad you don’t get to be my WAG now.” She said as you squealed, trying to escape the onslaught of affection.

“Shush Oni. You know I’ll always support you. I’ll always watch every one of your games, and you know it.” You laughed as she settled on top of you, the weight comforting as you began to play with her hair.

“Gracias,” you whispered into the quiet a little while later. The world outside seemed so far away whenever you were with Ona. The smell of her apple shampoo mixed with her perfume and something that was indescribably Ona.

“What for?” She whispered back, afraid to break the softness surrounding the pair of you.

“Everything. You always calm me down. Even if you don’t say anything. Just you being with me. I don’t know.” You laughed gently, slightly embarrassed at the confession.

“No need to thank me. I will always help you in any way that I can.” She replied as she shifted from your chest to hover over you, strong arms bracing either side of your head. “Ya sea que necesites un abrazo, un hombro sobre el que llorar, alguien con quien reír, alguien que te disuada de cualquier pensamiento desagradable que tengas en mente. I will always be here for you.”

“What if I need help in another way?” You asked shyly, shifting your hips up in an attempt to get the message across. This wasn’t the first time you had initiated sex with Ona, but you were always unsure what her answer would be – never wanting to push her too far. You would take whatever she was willing to give if it meant to could keep her in your life.

“Quieres que to folle?” She asked so bluntly. This dynamic you had with Ona was something you adored. Sometimes she would be the shy one, especially in the beginning when alcohol was required to get you into the bedroom. Sometimes she was so blasé about everything. It made your head spin in the best way.

Ona still had 10 minutes left to play. No one wanted to continue. You were integral to the English team, most of them considering you more of a sister than a friend or teammate. You were a good friend to a lot of the Spanish girls as well. You played with a lot of them at Barca, and through Ona or the others, you had met most of them multiple times. The game had lost any and all fight; the ball being passed around with little attacks from either side. Eventually, the final whistle went. Ona didn’t know how to feel. She had just won to World Cup – something she had dreamed about since she knew what a football was. But it was at the expense of her good friends. She went round and tried to comfort people, but she didn’t know how to help them.

And then there was you. Seeing you again had helped ease the ache that ran so deeply in her soul. She had known from the minute she’d left your flat in Manchester that she was the biggest idiot known to man. After a drunken night, she spilt everything to Laia and Leila. They had berated her for hurting you and herself, comforted her as she cried heart-wrenching, painful sobs into their arms, and helped her concoct a plan. A plan for what, she wasn’t so sure, but she was so desperate to see you again, to talk to you again, and if you would let her, to love you again. And then there was that stupid, reckless tackle. It was a straight red. The studs were obviously up, and she didn’t even make contact with the ball. The way you crumpled in a heap, the pure agony that was written across your face. Your leg was horrific to look at – the sight of blood and bone made Ona want to gag. She didn’t want to wait around and collect her medal. She wanted to run to wherever you were – hospital, hopefully – and help nurse you back to health if you would let her. She had tried to leave, but Vilda had been keeping a close eye on the ones that were closest to you.

You had met Vilda once. After the Spain game in the Euros, he had come up to you to shake your hand. You had refused to; you knew all about him from Ona. You knew it wasn’t professional, but you could find it in you to care. You were aware of the beginnings of a movement to stand up against the RFEF, and you hoped this would show the Spanish girls you were with them. He grabbed your shoulder roughly as you blanked him, your gasp catching the attention of those around you. He pointedly looked at his outstretched hand. You stared him straight in the eyes, shrugged his hand off you and carried on walking to Ona, wrapping your arms around her waist. It was caught on camera. You apologised to Sarina, the Lionesses, and the public for your unprofessionalism, but you didn’t mention his name in the apology.

Vilda made sure every girl received their medal, insisted everyone still stay for a minimum of an hour to celebrate the win and forced them all to get on the coach back to the hotel before finally allowing them to do as they pleased.

All of the girls from Barca travelled with Ona to the hospital. Lucy had given them the information as soon as they notified her of their plans. The room was crisp and white and smelled of antiseptic. Even the waiting room, with its plastic chairs and out-of-date magazines, had a sterile feel to it. The room was full to the brim. Every seat was taken. Your family was in a little huddle in the corner, speaking in low tones, talking to a man in scrubs. Everyone was quiet as they awaited news from your parents.

“She’s out of surgery for now,” your dad said to the expectant crowd. They have to go in again in a few days, but she’s stable.” The weight slowly crushing Ona’s heart lifted slightly at your father’s words. She had met your family a few times at games, but you had always seemed reluctant to let her get too close to them.

Ona had sat so still throughout all of it that people were convinced she had fallen asleep. She hadn’t. She was just so lost in everything she was feeling that the world around her faded into obscurity. A gentle cough from someone at the door brought Ona crashing back to earth.

“Um, I’m sorry to disturb you, but you’re the last one in here; even her parents have gone,” the nurse said. Do you want to see her?” She didn’t know what to say. She wasn’t expecting to actually see you.

“Sí,” She cleared her throat. “Um, yeh. If I’m allowed.”

“She’s in room 4, if you want to go to her” She pointed in the direction of the room you were currently lying in.

You looked so strange, lying in the bed. You didn’t look like she was expecting you to. Ona was anticipating you to look washed out and pale. But you looked almost normal like you could have been asleep in bed, not recovering from surgery and facing another one in a few days’ time.

“Hey,” your voice was a little croaky. You hadn’t seen who it was at the door. “Oh…”  you trailed off as you realised.

“Is it ok ... that I’m here? If you don’t want me here, that’s fine too. Totally your call.” You had only heard Ona be so unsure of herself once before. She was always confident in herself and her abilities.

“Ona, you’re starting tomorrow,” Marc called from across the room. It was her first start for United. She wasn’t expecting it either. She had been sure she would be brought on as a sub for a little longer. It was the first Derby of the season, and she was getting her first start. It was too sudden. She couldn’t think very clearly. She was blindsided.

“Oni, estás bien?” Your sweet voice asked from beside her. That voice that she was slowly falling in love with.

“I… I’m starting… tomorrow. I’m starting tomorrow.” Her voice was shaky. You hadn’t known her long, but this was something else. She sounded so small, so unsure of herself.

“Really? Oh, my god, that’s great.” You jumped on her in excitement, her arms automatically catching you, keeping you close to her. She wanted you to always be this close to her. “We have to celebrate. Come back to mine, yeh? We could do a movie night or something. We could cook … well, actually, you could cook for me; you know how much I love your food,” you babbled excitedly. “I would suggest we order something, but with a match tomorrow, we should eat decently. But tomorrow we’ll properly celebrate after the match. We could go to that bar we’ve been wanting to go to? Have a few drinks?” You were seemingly oblivious to her nerves, too busy playing with the baby hairs.

“I’m starting tomorrow” She whispered again. “No puedo empezar mañana. No estoy listo. Esto es un error. Debería decirle a Marc que no puedo.”

“Now that Ona Batlle is complete and utter bullshit.” She hadn’t heard you swear before. It sounded wrong coming from you. “Estás más que listo. Eres perfecta.” The Spanish you were quickly picking up on sounded adorable to Ona. The way she was trying to learn and incorporate as much of her native language as possible was to make her feel more at home. She didn’t know that you had a steady streak on Duolingo that you kept up with to impress her. “You will start tomorrow, and you will have a great game.” You responded with such confidence and authority that she had no other choice but to believe you. “Now, we are going to go back to my place. You are going to cook me some of your fantastic food, and then we are going to watch a movie before having an early night.” You slipped out of her arms and took her hand, pulling her towards your cubbies.

“Umm … you can… stay … if you want to.” You answered her.

“I don’t want to impose. If you want to rest that’s fine. Simplemente me iré” She turned to leave. God, it was so awkward between you to. Everything used to be so natural.

Ona had just entered the changing rooms when she was jumped on. She knew immediately who it was, even without the excited squeal you let out. “See, I told you, you would be great. A start and the full game! Best day ever. We are most definitely going out tonight. Because Manchester is red, baby.” You chatted away as you clung to Ona’s back. Everyone around you was confused. You were never this talkative; you were always the one to soak up the atmosphere in silence, only really contributing to conversations when you had something you thought was valuable to say. Katie had seen this side of you, but she wasn’t upset. This new, chatty, happy Y/N was something they hoped would stay. They hoped your newfound confidence with shine through and you would finally realise how good you were.

After showering, you waited by your car for Ona. You were taking her back to yours before heading out for some drinks with the girls. All your attention was on her as she left the building. Ivana was chatting animatedly to her as Ona laughed, her head thrown back and the most amazing sound drifting across the car park. You knew you were falling in love with her. You had been from the moment you met her. She was shy and slightly awkward, not knowing much English, but you had quietly approached her and, with schoolgirl Spanish, introduced yourself. You liked who you were around her. She brought out the loud and carefree side of you. A side that you hadn’t let out in a long time. But you couldn’t help it, not with her around.

“You’ll catch flies” Tobin giggled as she walked past, her arm wrapped around Christen. You hadn’t even noticed you mouth was slightly open.

“Shut up” you grumbled as Ona arrived, looking concerned at your irritated tone

“Qué ocurre?” She asked immediately, trying to stop whatever was making you sad. You just shook your head, gesturing at her to get in the passenger side.

You arrived at the bar with her arm wrapped securely around your waist. Whilst she was a definite fan of your outfit – a black bralette and jeans – she didn’t like how much of you was exposed to people who weren’t her.

“Is that what your wearing?” She asked as you reached for your bag. She was wearing long sleeves and was already a little cold.

“Yeh… Why do I look not look good?” You looked down at yourself, slightly hurt but the insinuation.

“No, no … you, um, you look beautiful,” she was quick to reassure you. “It’s just … won’t you be cold?” You laughed loudly at her concern.

“Oni…” You cooed. Oni. You had never called her that before, but she liked it. It made her heart flutter in a way she hadn’t felt before. “I won’t be cold, I promised. Whilst you might think it’s freezing, not all of us grew up in Spain. I’m Northern – this is a pretty mild night for me. And besides, it's sacrilegious to bring a coat on a night out, and I’ll have an alcohol jacket for warmth fairly soon. And even after all of that, if I’m still cold, you’ll keep me warm, right?” You grabbed her hand, pulling her out of your flat with ease.

The night was full of dancing and laughter. It felt like the most normal thing to press your body against her as you swayed your hips. It felt right as she stared into your eyes, stealing a sip of the fruity drink in your hand. It felt normal as your eyes focused on her lips more than what she was saying. The way your heart pounded felt nice when her arms looped around your neck, pulling you impossibly closer. The way the world slid sideways as your lips pressed delicately against her felt like the more natural thing in the world.

“Llevame a la cama.” You wouldn’t have heard her if you weren’t already staring at her lips. It took you a moment to translate it. She could tell the moment you understood what she said. That dazzling smile spread across your face, your arms pulling her even closer to you. You didn’t even bother to say goodbye to your teammates.

“Stay … please” You called out.

I'm not too sure when the next part will be, but I hope you liked it.

[notelcol]

The Getaway🐦‍⬛

That Kaz x reader hurt/comfort that was voted in by some lovely people❤️

Mildly edited, apologies for mistakes🫶

The wind blew harshly against your body as you ran through Ketterdam with a stolen scroll in your hand. You felt like you were flying. Grinning, you turned towards the man who ran a step behind you. His face matched yours. A wicked joy had you both feeling more alive than ever. You had just pulled a small heist, now it was your favourite part. The getaway.

A few more turnings through the winding streets and you would be at the switch point. There, you would meet Inej and she would disappear with the loot, while Jesper appears and shoots the men chasing you. That was the plan at least…When you and Kaz finally skidded to a halt at your location, you both looked up at the rooftops for Inej.

“Where is she?” Kaz hissed. You looked back down the road you had come from.

“Where’s the men?” You realised they should have caught up by now. Slow footsteps began to echo, coming from a nearby turning. You whipped your head around to see the man you just stole from. He grinned menacingly before pulling out a gun. Kaz clocked it before you did but before he could even take a step towards you, the shot rang out. The scroll fell from your hand and rolled down the street, towards the shooter.

“I’ll have that back now, thank you.” He said, all too politely. Then, he simply walked away while whistling a jaunty tune.

The shock wore off, as the whistling became quieter. Then came the pain. You held your hand against your stomach, only to be met with a wet warmth. Reality truly hit you when you looked down at your hand and saw the blood. All of a sudden you could feel it trickling down from your stomach until it fell in a pool on the floor. You looked to Kaz for reassurance, only to see him white as a sheet inching towards you terror.

“You need to apply pressure.” He instructed. You complied, but each second you felt as though you were fading. Until, you dropped.

“HEY!” Kaz shouted desperately poking you with his cane. “Stay awake and keep applying pressure. Inej and Jesper will be here…they’re just held up.” He hoped they would make it. A situation like this is the only time Kaz feels useless.

Your eyes started to roll as your vision became blurry. You tried to keep pressing on your wound, but your hands wouldn’t listen to you anymore. As your fingers fell beside you once again, you felt a hard pressure against your stomach. You knew you were delirious when you saw Kaz kneeling at your side, keeping your blood inside your body, allowing you to close your eyes at last. Kaz himself was beginning to feel like he was dreaming too. But his dream was a memory. The last time he had pushed his hair out of his face, your blood on his gloves ran up his arm beneath his sleeve. The wet sensation combined with the coldness of your body under his hands was all too familiar. He could almost feel the water choking him once more.

Kaz wanted nothing more than to sink his memories forever. But they kept surfacing to matter how hard he tried to focus on you. A scream ripped from his throat as he punched himself in the head, as if trying to evict the distraction of his childhood trauma. His eyes fell upon your face as he told himself this isn’t Jordie. You were still alive, at least you would be as long as he could keep himself together. He pressed more confidently against the wound at he thought of losing you, his partner in crime. He never expected to trust someone enough to call them that. He had his Crows, but never a partner. Not until you. Not since Jordie. A tear fell from his cheek onto yours as he stared down at your paling features.

He barely even noticed Inej’s arrival. It was shortly followed by Jesper’s much louder one.

“Sorry! We got held up by-“ Jesper froze when he saw the scene before him, then released a breath when he saw your chest rising.

“Shit. We need to get them back home.” Jesper jumped straight into action, less cautious to approach Kaz than Inej was. He took over Kaz’ position at your side and picked you up.

You woke up to a deep ache, causing you to groan and roll over. The movement changed the pain to a searing stab.

“FUCKING HELL!!!” You screamed.

“Good morning to you too.” Kaz’ made his presence in the room known to you. He was sat at the side of your bed smirking at you.

“I take it the men who were supposed to be chasing us are why Inej and Jesper were late?” You asked. Kaz answered you with only a nod, leaving you still concerned for your friends. Your rolled your eyes as sat up, this time sure to move slower. It did not help much, still feeling like you were being ripped open. You felt Kaz’ cane press against your chest gently.

“Lay down.” He sternly told you. You looked up at him in defiance but stopped when you saw his eyes. “Please.” His tone was more vulnerable this time, small like a whisper. You allowed his cane to push you back down, not missing the sadness in his eyes as a groan escaped you.

“I’m okay.” You sent him a comforting smile, which he returned.

“So are Inej and Jesper.”

Kaz had been in and out of your room all day in between handling business.

“I just came to say goodnight.” He said, though he seemed as though he was holding back. You decided not to pry, since you did not have the energy to get blood from a stone tonight.

“Goodnight Kaz.” You smiled. He turned to leave, looking almost disappointed. Then out of nowhere, he rushed back in and stopped when he reached your bedside. He looked deep into your eyes. The intensity woke your drowsy mind as your heart skipped a beat. “You are very special to me. Today was…” He trailed off and looked away. You thought he was about to turn around and leave again, but instead he sucked in a deep breath and quickly pressed a kiss to your forehead. As his lips met your skin, he lingered for a second. This was the closest you had ever felt to him. Not because of the physical contact though. It was rare for Kaz let someone see him feel. It felt intimate. But it was over as fast as it began.

“Goodnight.” He said once more, but this time he was breathless and shaking in a mix of fear and something else that he was finally ready to name.

“I love you.” He spoke. Before you could process the interaction, he was gone.

——-

Thank you for reading 🌹

[lady-ashfade]

Hello Darling, I was wondering if I could get Kaz thing were him and reader have know each other for ages and like with Jordie and she is the old person Kaz is kinds ok with touching, so one day when a heist goes wrong and Y/N gets hurt and Kaz is like freaking out thinking she's going to die and stuff and its like super fluffy and and like Y/N heals and Kazoo like doesn't leave her side

If you could do this it would be amazing

I’m right here.

Kaz Brekker x Fem!Reader

Hope I did this okay! Thanks for the request 🌸

Notes: This is short and fluffy. I also can’t do good aid or this type of thing so I hope it’s okay!

Warning: Pain to comfort, a little angst, blood, crying in pain, bad writing for sure, spelling mistakes probably.

The group rushed through the door almost breaking it off the hinges. “Get her upstairs.” Kaz shouted as Matthias held you in his arms, Nina by his side focusing on your heartbeat. Inej went to the kitchen where you kept your towels and collected everything.

You blood stained Matthias shirt and your eyes flutter, a groan or a whimper leaving your lips a few times. As soon as they got to the top floor of your home they rushed to the bedroom. “On the bed.” Nina fixed the pillows and the sheets, then patted the mattress. Matthias nodded his head and put you down carefully and tried not to give your extra pain.

Wylan almost sobbed at the sight of your arm falling and going limp. You knew who he was, who was his father and you never shamed him for it. He loved you and cared deeply, you were his best friend. Wylan turned away and into Jesper arms, who took him into his arms quickly. “Is she going to be okay?” He asked and kaz shot him a glare that he couldn’t see.

“Yes, now everyone out except Inej.” Nina’s hand tugged at your bloody shirt and they all went out quickly. Kaz stood still and looked at you, “Kaz, she’ll be fine.” Inej rushed passed passed him with her arms full and went by Nini. “I’m staying.” They didn’t have time to fight with him, but they knew even if they did he would stay.

They had no choice but pull your shirt off and leaving you in the thin layer on your chest. Kaz hated seeing your face curl into pain as they cleaned the wound. “Jordie” he remembered the small boy with a body underneath him, shaking it as he cried for his brother. He got light headed and sat down in the chair. Was he going to lose you too? Shaking his head at the thought because he wouldn’t allow that.

A scream cut him out of his thoughts, you opening your eyes as the needle pressed into your skin. “Stop! Please.” You cried at the pain in your side. Nina apologized as she teared up and Inej looked up at you guilty. “Kaz!” You looked up at him and he felt his entire body move on its own and he was by your side within seconds. “Make it stop!” You cried.

He took your hand in his and gave it a small squeeze, “You can handle it.” He stated and you shook your head. A whimper came out as the needle went back, “Can’t.” He leaned closer and rubbed circles on your hand. “You can, I’m right here.” You looked back at him and the pain became too much for you to handle, along with the blood that you lost, or the shock you felt.

Kaz watched your eyes fell closed and your hand losing its grip. He panicked and looked back at your chest and saw it go up and down. “I’m right here.” He whispered. Kaz held your hand the whole time and stayed by your side, even when it was all done. He refused to leave your side, if something happened while he was away he couldn’t live with himself.

Everyone came and stayed for a while, he was there. When everyone left to sleep he stayed there, Nina and Matthias stayed in the other room. Days passed and he was still in the room by your side. He hated the feelings of lose as if the old friend visited him again to take someone else. You couldn’t leave him, he needed you in his life. The light of his life and the feeling of comfort he so rarely felt was only with you.

Kaz sat in the chair beside your bed and his head leaned on the wall behind him with his eyes closed. You stirred yourself awake and took a moment to remember everything. You look around the familiar room and then down at the pain in your side. A bandage wrapped around your side and only in a bra. “Damn.” You cursed and put your head back.

A small snore caught you by surprise and you looked to the side and saw Kaz asleep. He looked calmer then normal but he still had a snarl on his face, it made you laugh a bit. As much as you could without hurting your side. “Kazzel.” You poked his leg. It took a moment and then shot up and it startled you a bit. He looked panicked and then looked down at you, he looked terrified.

“I’m okay.” You whispered with smiled. Kaz blinked as he saw you up and talking. “Y/n.” He pushed up and moved closer to and leaned down the bed. “Kaz, how long have you been here?” He swallowed. “As long as you have been out, you scared the others.” His hand came up to your cheek and softly moved his fingers on the skin.

“I’m not going that easy.” Smirked up at him. He looked at you and his eyes softened. Leaning himself down he pressed his lips against yours and kissed you softly. He was so afraid he would never get to do that again, or to have you in his arms or seen you smile. You took your hand and put it on his chest to remind him that you were still here.

“Good, because I don’t plan on losing you. You’ll stay with me, even if I have to bring you back to life myself.” He whispered against your lips and put his forehead on yours. And he was true, if he had to drag you out of deaths claws he would do it. He’d fight the saints himself to have you stay with him.

“You’re stuck with me, Kaz Brekker.” You teased and connected your lips with his again.

[kazcreates]

The Crows and Fevers

Kaz was always a sensitive child. Although fevers meant getting out of chores on the farm, they made him emotional and upset. It’s even worse after the plague and losing Jordie. From the second the chills set in, Kaz is on edge. The higher his fever, the worse the flashbacks get, delirium mixing with delusion and sending him back to the harbour. His immune system sucks so bad that he’s bedridden almost every time, despite the fact that he’ll try his hardest to work through them. Kaz despises fevers, in himself, but in others too. When those close to him develop a fever, he has to resist every fiber of his being screaming at him to get away from them. He can’t afford to catch anything. He can’t bring himself to watch them suffer. But when he’s healed some, he takes care of them. Watches over them at the very least, even as his hands shake inside his leather gloves.

Jesper also has a negative relationship with fevers. Although he never got them even as a child, being Grisha and all, he can’t stand the see them in other people. Watching those he loves reduced to a shivering and weaker version of themselves, it reminds him too much of sitting by his mother’s bedside as the poison coursed through her veins. He tries his best to be helpful, makes sure that they’re hydrated and at least eating a little, but he paces constantly, tries to distract himself from the memories that itch inside his mind.

Inej doesn’t mind fevers. She doesn’t enjoy them by any means, but she gets over them fairly quickly because she actually allows herself to take adequate time to rest. She doesn’t push through stubbornly like Kaz, and she doesn’t have many negative memories attached to sickness as the others do. She chides Kaz into taking care of himself when he needs to, sometimes going as far as threatening to tie him to the bed if he won’t lie down of his own accord.

Wylan has a strange relations with fevers. When he was younger, being sick meant a break from pointless and frustrating lessons trying to teach him to read. A fever meant rest, meant that he would be taken care of. His earliest memories of being feverish involve his mother, running her fingers through his hair, brushing a cool cloth over his face. Once things took a turn for the worst, sickness meant being lonely, ignored, locked up in his room. Which really wasn’t all that different from usual. But there was no one to take care of him, so he had to learn to be self-sufficient. Once he’s with Jesper and the crows, a fever would mean trying to hide the fact that he was sick as not to inconvenience anyone else. After all, he could take care of himself. (Jesper teaches him how to allow himself to be taken care of again.)

Nina, up until her run in with Jurda Parem, is unfamiliar with fevers. No one in the Little Palace ever got sick, and as a Grisha herself, she was never really around sick people. She’s been trained how to soothe fevers during her Corporalnik training, and practiced it a few times on First Army soldiers. Fighting off her addiction to Jurda Parem was her first interaction with fevers herself, and she was not a fan of it.

Matthias was taught to work through fevers, during his time in the druskelle. Something as fickle as being sick was not allowed to slow you down when you were dealing with dangerous Grisha. He views them as more of an inconvenience than anything. He works through them until he has time to rest, then he takes care of himself. He’s very independent, because there was no one to take care of him in the druskelle. He was a soldier, not a child.

[auroravictorium]

high infidelity (pt. 2) (k.b.)

do i really have to chart the constellations in her eyes?

Summary: the crows arrive to help reader, and kaz finally gets his revenge. once reader is in safe hands, kaz is forced to make a decision on where to take her to heal.

Pairing(s): kaz x fem!reader (established relationship)

Word Count: 4.3k

Warnings: LOTS of blood and violence (stabbing, vague description of gutting someone), death of non-canon character(s), use of guns, shooting, lots of pain, shrapnel

Genre: angst and action

Author's Note: again, PLEASE read the warnings if you haven't! here is part two of high infidelity, told from kaz's pov :)) enjoy!

part one

Kaz marched down the final row of warehouses, his expression stormy and eyes dark with fury. His leg throbbed from all the walking, but he pressed on with a soldier's determination. He was treating this like any other job, trying as hard as he could to not let his growing panic show. But it swelled to his ankles like he was wading through the cold sea despite his attempts to ignore it. It threatened to slow his steps, and a rough wave tried to crush his chest every now and then when they found yet another empty warehouse.

Each abandoned building broke the dam holding back his emotions a little more. Kaz felt himself swimming away from the shore, plunging into the water's depths. He couldn't help but wonder if you were still in Kerch. Had the Crows come too late? Had Inej's fears of the mercenaries passing you to slavers come true?

Is she still alive? Will I find her as a corpse?

The questions, persistent and growing louder in his mind, sent a shudder down his spine that he tried to hide with his quick pace.

His sleep in the past near-week was restless. His recent nightmares hadn't contained bodies with Jordie's face. They'd all been you, beaten and bruised and twisted into odd angles. Each dream was a taunt, a condemnation of Kaz's failure thus far to find you, and a nauseating mix of every fear he'd ever had. 

Kaz had to stop walking as last night's dream came to mind. You, black and blue and broken, while Kaz was powerless to stop it. His shoulder slammed into the brick wall of a building, jolting him out of his thoughts before his dream self could scream, and Kaz lowered his head as he fought against his traitorous lungs. His fingers tightened around the crow's head of his cane, letting the detailed metal grooves dig into his palm through his glove. He fought to breathe past the lump growing in his throat, and he squeezed his eyes shut to block out the grimy, empty avenue of warehouses.

Shit, Brekker. What is wrong with you?

It was the first time he'd admitted that to himself since Kaz Brekker emerged from the harbor ten years ago. Since then, he'd never allowed himself any moment of weakness. He couldn't; weakness was for children, people who hoped, who dared to dream of good things. His weakness killed his brother. If Kaz couldn't pull himself together, it would kill you too.

"Boss-," Jesper began, stepping beside Kaz and peering at his face. Jes opened his mouth to tell Kaz they would find her, that they had to be getting close. A finite number of warehouses sat on the street, and the Crows would find Pekka and the mercenaries if they were there. And if they weren't, they would track them down.

A loud scream echoed down the street, cutting Jesper off and making him turn his head toward the sound.

It was a scream of pure agony, the kind that made the heart feel like it might split in two, made legs feel like they may collapse, made horror choke the air from your lungs and hold it captive. It was a sound and a feeling Kaz had experienced only once, as a blade pierced your chest nine months ago.

It was a sound Kaz wished he would never have to hear again.

Kaz unhitched himself from the wall and ran toward the sound. He forgot about the pain in his leg, his panic, his worry that they'd never find you. He didn't even register Inej, Jesper, and Nina sprinting behind him, their shoes pounding against the cobbled ground. All Kaz could think about was you, your wail of agony, his desperation to get to you.

He skidded to a stop outside the warehouse, finding a set of double doors with a padlock and chains looped through the handles. "Sons of-" Kaz snarled, raising his cane as if he meant to swing it downward. It wouldn't do anything, but he didn't care. His worry had yielded to white-hot fury that muddled his mind and made him think only of the vengeance he was about to inflict. It burned beneath his skin, anger red as the blood rushing in his ears and muffling his hearing.

A hand interrupted the swing, catching the cane's head and gently pushing it down. "Move," Jesper said. He slipped between Kaz and the door as the former moved away, seething. Jes pressed his hands to the lock and warped it until it fell to the ground, deformed and useless. He ripped the chains from the handles and dropped them next to the hunk of metal before pulling his pistols from their holsters.

"What do you want us to do, Brekker?" Nina murmured, reaching out to feel for the heartbeats of those inside. One was irregular, accented by the fast, shallow breathing of panic and pain. "Four of them, and Y/N."

"I take Pekka. You three kill the mercenaries and get to Y/N." Kaz slipped a phosphorous bomb from his coat pocket and weighed it in his hand. His gaze was fixed on the door, filled with rage cold enough to freeze over the True Sea. "No mourners."

"No funerals," Jesper grunted. "Let's kill these bastards." He kicked the door open and moved inside, twirling his guns in his fingers. His eyes fought to adjust to the dim lighting, straining through the cloudy darkness, and Jesper blinked furiously to clear his vision. He spotted Y/N across the room, clearly injured and ill but alive, and he breathed a sigh of relief as he aimed his pistols at the four figures gathered around a table.

Kaz threw his smoke bomb down and made a beeline for Pekka Rollins as the air filled with smoke. Pistols fired and metal scraped against metal; the sound echoed off the warehouse walls, accented by the sound of the Crows and mercenaries launching at each other. Someone hit the ground with a loud groan that lapsed into silence; Kaz could only hope it wasn't one of his Crows or, Saints forbid, you. To make it this far, only to fail, would be his breaking point.

Kaz tackled Pekka out of his chair, barely registering the clatter of a filled gun against the stone ground as it fell from Pekka's hand. Their bodies collided against the floor, skin scraping and bones groaning from the impact; Pekka grunted and rolled, trying to shove Kaz off of him and retrieve his gun.

But Kaz was already swinging, bashing his fists down again and again against any part of Pekka he could hit. His face, his throat, his chest. His punches were sloppy, his vision blurred by bright red anger and the image of Y/N bound to a support beam on replay. Blood on her skin, bruises everywhere he could see and definitely where he couldn't. The memories she would have to live with and the nightmares that would plague her.

He could hardly see through his simmering rage, and he secured his gloved hands around Pekka's throat and squeezed. Nothing would drive his anger away like the sight of Pekka's life leaving his face, light draining from his eyes as death swept over him like a heavy cloak.

Pekka seethed and grabbed Kaz's wrists, struggling to shove them away. But his grip was iron, locked in place through the sheer force of his wrath as everything Pekka had taken from him flashed before his eyes. His money. His brother. His Crows. You.

You you you you you.

Your laugh, replaced by an agonizing scream. Your smile, replaced by a grimace of pain. Your soul, too kind for the Barrel and certainly more than Kaz deserved, cracked or even shattered by whatever the mercenaries and Pekka had done to you.

Kaz's breathing came fast and hard, his teeth gritted together as he pushed as much of his weight down onto Pekka's windpipe as he could. "You killed my brother," he snarled, watching Pekka's eyes bulge and his face redden from lack of oxygen. "You hurt my Crows. You took my love. You made me think that to care was a weakness, to let someone in was a death sentence." He dug his fingertips into Pekka's throat so violently that his arms shook with the wrath he wanted to inflict. "I've let you think you're king for too long. I've let you win. But no more."

Pekka lifted his fist and slammed it into Kaz's ribs. Kaz grunted but didn't break, even as pain sparked through his chest. He forced a smile as he leaned down to get nose-to-nose with Pekka. "You'll have to do much worse, Rollins," he breathed. "You've made me immune to your tricks, and I fear you've run out of them."

He removed a hand from Pekka's throat and brought it down on Pekka's wrist, bashing his hand back to the floor as Pekka pulled the trigger on the gun he'd barely managed to reach. The bullet shot wildly into the air, flying somewhere past Kaz and shattering a window. Cold air rushed into the warehouse, nipping at the back of Kaz's neck.

Kaz wrenched the pistol from Pekka's hand, unloaded it, and slammed the butt of it down against the older man's palm in one swift movement. Bone crunched beneath the impact with a sickening, nauseating snap, and Pekka groaned. The veins of his neck bulged against Kaz's hand, and Kaz wanted to laugh. That's the least of what I want to do, old man.

"You don't know what you're getting into, boy," Pekka wheezed, bringing his unbroken hand up to try and pull Kaz's hand from his throat. He dug his nails into the skin of Kaz's wrist in the struggle, dousing Kaz in ice-cold water that soaked his clothes and froze him to his bones.

Kaz released Pekka's throat before he could stop himself, thrown off kilter by the contact. Slimy fingers. Touching. Lifeless but trying to shove his head beneath the water. Harbor filling his lungs.

Weak. That's all Kaz felt as his vengeance stood suspended in time, replaced by the simultaneous urges to vomit or inflict so much violence that even his rising panic would cower. One touch, one unsuspecting brush of fingertips against skin, and every victory he'd reached over his past was wiped away. Your pride went undeserved, and your words of encouragement crumbled to dust.

Pekka shoved Kaz to the ground and struggled to his feet, cradling his broken hand to his chest. He lifted a hand to his throat to massage the bruising skin. His tongue swiped over his cracked lips as he looked down at Kaz, clutching his cane and breathing hard as he pushed himself back to his feet. 

"A damned shame you came all this way for her," Pekka rasped, dropping his hand from his throat. He unbuttoned his disheveled vest and shrugged out of it, tossing it to the side. "Now she has to watch you die, and she won't even be able to give you a rat's burial in the Harbor."

Kaz didn't give Pekka the dignity of a response, lifting his cane and lurching toward him again. He swung, and the metal crow cut through empty space as Pekka dodged and reached for Kaz to push him back toward the wall; the cane fell from Kaz's hands and rolled a few feet away. Kaz grunted as his back collided with the wall, and his head jerked to the side as Pekka punched him. Hard.

Blood filled Kaz's mouth, and his jaw seared with pain as he probed the swelling flesh of his cheek with his tongue. Despite the pain, the promise of death written in Pekka's eyes, Kaz laughed. A mirthless, mocking sound that he couldn't bring himself to cut short, even as Pekka pulled another gun from the back of his waistband and held it to Kaz's throat. But his arm was unsteady, his hand trembling with the gun there. As if he'd never held it before.

Kaz didn't so much as flinch, meeting Pekka's murderous gaze with one of his own. "Do it," he said quietly. "If you kill me now, you might have a fighting chance of getting out of here before my Crows are done with your precious mercenaries and turn their attention to you."

His gaze settled over Pekka's shoulder, landing on Jesper and Inej, fighting the tallest and most muscular of the mercenaries. His energy was waning, and Inej was gaining the upper hand as he attempted to deflect each of her swipes at him. Jesper approached from behind, pulling his rings from his fingers and molding them into sharp little spikes that flew out of his hands and straight into the mercenaries spine. 

Past Inej, Jesper, and a dead mercenary with a shot through the forehead, Nina had her hands outstretched, strangling the last mercenary as he grappled with you for control over a weapon. He seized above you, unable to move, and the interruption allowed you to secure your hold and drive the dagger up into his chest. It took all of Kaz's self-control to not let any of his relief show as you shoved the mercenary off of you and knelt beside him to pull the blade from his chest.

Pekka followed Kaz's gaze, turning to look over his shoulder.

Got you, you twisted son of a bitch.

Kaz slipped a blade from his coat and slashed it across Pekka's chest. It parted his shirt and skin easily, and a dark red stain bloomed across his front. The intent was not to kill; just to surprise, buy a chance for Kaz to throw him off long enough to pull the single bullet from the cylinder. He had the bullet in his pocket before the dagger had left Pekka's skin.

Child's play.

Pekka whirled to face Kaz, a hiss of pain whistling through his teeth, and he unclicked the safety of his gun. He pried the dagger from Kaz's hand and tossed it to the ground with a clatter; his chest heaved from anger, and he jabbed the end of the gun into Kaz's throat hard enough to force a choked cough. "You're a fool, Brekker," Pekka snarled. 

"Am I?" Kaz hissed back, jerking his chin toward Pekka's dwindling number of allies. Behind him, the fight was slowing; the clashing of weapons and grunting of pain had faded as the mercenaries fell at the hands of the Crows.

The final mercenary standing collapsed at Inej's feet, a slash across his throat spraying blood across the pristine stone floor. Jesper fired one of his pistols once, striking him just below the ear and silencing his cries instantly.

The mercenary at your knees twitched as death took hold, even as you cut him open from the navel to the sternum. From a few feet away, Nina was working to regulate your blood pressure, unwilling to let you die but unwilling to take your chance at revenge away from you. She would be there to catch you when you fell, as your blood pressure suddenly dropped and you teetered unsteadily, the knife slipping from your hands.

Pekka was alone, and he knew it. He would not be walking out of the warehouse. But would he die having killed Kaz Brekker, or would he die by Kaz Brekker's hand? Would Alby be proud, or would he be ashamed of his father's name?

"I once told you the trick to survival was not to love anyone," Kaz said quietly. He leaned closer, angling his head. The moonlight caught in his pale blue eyes, washing the color from them and letting Pekka see every speck of icy rage within. Kaz's bloodied lips curled into a smile before he could stop them. "I was wrong. The trick to survival is making enemies who are too foolish to check that their gun is loaded."

Pekka pulled the trigger as if he expected Kaz to be wrong. But no bullet loosed itself, no blood splattered the walls, and no sudden darkness enveloped Kaz. It was empty, the lone bullet sitting uselessly in Kaz's coat pocket. He'd been banned from every gambling hall in Ketterdam for a reason.

"You bastard," Pekka seethed. "How did you-?" 

His gun suddenly exploded in his hand, crumbling into a variety of metal chunks that thumped to the floor. Some rose upward and shot toward Pekka's face, burying themselves into his skin and eyes and anywhere they could hit. Blood streamed down his face, and Pekka stumbled back, covering his eyes as he roared in pain and anger. 

Kaz turned, finding Jesper with his hand outstretched. He was gasping, looking between his palm and Pekka as he hunched over and dug his fingers into his eyes as if he could pull the metal shards from them.

What the Saints did I do? Jesper thought, staring down at his fingers as power sang beneath his skin. One moment, he was thinking about Pekka's gun jamming, the next... Kaz's cane. He blinked and ducked down to grab Kaz's cane. "Finish it," Jesper said roughly, then tossed the cane to its owner. Before he could think too hard about the look of awe in Kaz's eyes, Jes turned and rushed toward Nina and Inej as they worked to start treating you.

Kaz secured his grip on his cane and jammed the end of it into Pekka's knees, toppling him to the ground. He crouched beside him, ignoring the searing pain in his leg, and tucked his cane under his arm. "I'll do you a favor," Kaz hissed, grabbing a fistful of Pekka's hair and jerking his head back. "I won't tell your precious prince how easily you fell."

He slammed Pekka's head into the ground. His nose crunched beneath the impact, and blood sprayed across the floor. Kaz pulled his head back up as Pekka panted, and silent, unheard pleas passed his lips. He tilted his head, meeting Pekka's terrified, unseeing gaze. "I won't give him the details. I'll even be merciful and make sure he doesn't end up on the streets." 

Kaz could leave Alby Rollins to starve, to risk wasting away on the streets as news spread of his father's death. The Dime Lions' fortune was finite, easily spent or misallocated without a leader. Not a drop would end up with Alby; if any did, by some act of the Saints, he would be manipulated out of it before he had the chance to escape the city.

But as Kaz stared at Pekka, at the unintelligible pleas and prayers leaving his lips, he only heard your voice. He saw your wages leaving your hands, given to the very woman who had passed your name to the Dime Lions. All so she could escape Ketterdam's unforgiving violence and return to some lover, someplace safer and more secure.

It would have cost less for you to kill Amalia.

It would cost Kaz less if he didn't make this promise to Pekka before he killed him.

A lump rose in Kaz's throat as his battle against himself raged on. He didn't owe Pekka or Alby Rollins anything, and yet... He had to be close to the age Kaz had been when Jordie died. Just nine, on the cusp of ten, still hopeful that there was good in the world. It was almost poetic how the cycle of tragedies repeated itself.

"He won't end up on the streets," Kaz repeated. But his voice sounded far away to his own ears, and he hardly registered the relief flickering across Pekka's face. He was nine years old again with the firepox ravaging his body. Between one blink and the next, he would be moved from the streets to the Reaper's Barge. Then he was fourteen, breaking his leg during a bank heist. Sixteen, trailing a girl causing chaos in the wealthy side of the city and convincing her to join the Dregs. Seventeen, he was ignoring his feelings for that girl. Eighteen, he kissed her. Nineteen, he was burning Kerch to the ground to find her and killing the man who set all this into motion, good and bad, his hate and his love.

Beneath it all was one simple truth. We both are beyond saving.

But one unfortunate boy had fallen into the mix. Nine years old, his life and his father's in Kaz's hands. The same position the father had once been in, and he had made the wrong choice. Ripped Kaz's future from him with the stroke of his pen and threatened his yet unborn son's own.

Alby Rollins has a chance.

Kaz clenched his jaw and brought Pekka's head down into the stone floor with a sharp, sickening crack. Death was simple and quick, claiming Pekka Rollins between one moment and the next. It was as if he'd never existed, but the damage within the warehouse and outside of it said otherwise.

Kaz Brekker stood up and felt nothing at all, despite what had just happened. He turned and left Pekka's body behind him, limping over to his friends huddled around you. It was only when he saw the mess of bruises and blood across your skin that he realized he wasn't breathing, and his emotions flickered back to life as he knelt beside you and turned your right arm to the sky.

Horror, when he saw the damage, your tattoo slashed in half. Concern, when he saw the blood seeping from your arm despite Inej's attempts to patch it until Nina could get to it. Fear, when he saw your eyes slipping shut, your chest slowing its intake of air. 

He didn't have enough space to allow his rage back in, enough air to feed its flames. All he felt was terror and the very real truth that you could die.

"Nina, her arm," Kaz said, trying to control his breathing. His lungs were speeding up without his permission, a mass of fear setting in his windpipe and threatening to choke him. "Jesper, the coach. Take Inej. Go."

Jesper rose from where he was bandaging a shallow cut on your other wrist, likely from your bindings, and Inej followed as he ran toward the warehouse doors.

Kaz dropped his cane and ripped a piece of fabric from the inner lining of his coat to start staunching the blood flowing from your arm, trying to buy Nina time as she worked on a gash on your head that Kaz hadn't noticed. He watched your eyes slip shut, and he forgot all about bandaging your cut arm.

No. You're not allowed to die.

He grabbed your hand and squeezed it as if he could tether you here. With him. Long enough that he could free the hesitation and fear from his lungs and tell you exactly what he felt. How he blamed himself, how he was sorry, how he loved you, and how that love had consumed every cell of his body; how he breathed it in from the moment he woke up to the moment he fell asleep. How it soothed every wound, healed and fresh. 

Kaz had to squeeze his eyes shut and look away as his breathing sped up from panic. I need you to live. "Nina," he rasped. He didn't know what he wanted to say to her. He only had words that he wished he could say to you. No room for anything, anyone else.

Not even Jordie's ghost, whom he was keenly aware of in the back of his mind.

"We need a place for the night. She won't make it back to Ketterdam." Nina's words were clipped, matter-of-fact as she traced her fingers down the deep cut down your forearm. A thin layer of skin knitted together to stop the bleeding, and Nina turned her attention back to the infection she could feel surging beneath your skin. "She needs water. Food. Rest."

Kaz nodded, a short dip of his chin. "Will she make it to Lij? Four hours from here if Jesper takes his time."

"And if he doesn't?"

"I hope the paths are clear." 

The warehouse doors thudded open again, and Kaz glanced over his shoulder to find Inej gasping in the doorway as, behind her, Jesper sat atop the coach while the horses neighed and shook their manes in indignation. "C'mon!" Inej called. "Locals heard of a disturbance."

Kaz slid his arms underneath your shoulders and knees and carefully pulled you into his arms, letting Nina pick his cane up from a puddle of blood on the ground. The cold harbor nipped at his ankles and threatened to rise as he cradled you against his chest, occasionally glancing down at you as he limped out of the warehouse. Your head lulled backward, exposing the bruised skin of your throat, and Kaz had to look away, toward Inej as she pulled the coach door open and shielded your head with her hand as Kaz carefully lifted the both of you into the coach.

"Head just north of Lij," Kaz ordered, settling you on one of the plush coach seats and tugging his coat and vest off. He bunched up the vest beneath your head to act as a pillow and covered you up with his coat, bloodied side facing out. "No sightseeing."

Inej and Nina joined Kaz in the coach, and Nina carefully lifted your legs so she could sit at your feet and continue stabilizing you. Inej sat across from Nina and pulled her necklace from beneath her shirt, clutching it in her palm and turning her eyes to the sky. Meanwhile, Kaz sat in the spot across from your head and tried to avoid letting renewed sparks of rage consume him.

Outside the coach on the driver's bench, Jesper chewed on the inside of his cheek, turning his gaze firmly toward the horses before him instead of letting them linger on the puddles of blood he could see just beyond the warehouse doors.

Bruised, bloody, and seething, the Crows left Zierfoort, heading toward the town of Lij. None of them said a word the entire ride.

reader's pov (part 1)

TAGLIST: @tonberry-yoda, @b3kk3r-by-br3kk3r, @futurecorps3, @statsvitenskap, @sapphiccloud, @casualladyinternet, @d34drapunzel, @noctemys, @whitejxsmine, @so6, @franzelt, @ell0ra-br3kk3r, @marlene-the-witch, @thestudiouswanderer, @lyjen, @rideacowb0y, @weasleybuns, @dal-light, @mariatpwk, @dreammgc, @elysian-chaos, @breadbrobin, @poppyflower-22, @halfofagayallofaqueer, @battleraven, @amarokofficial, @tenaciousperfectionunknown, @poppyflower-22, @madnessinwrighting, @ponyboys-sunsets, @circus-of-thoughts, @empresspenguin18, @mediocrestuff, @stonksman8, @alanis-altair, @thefandomplace, @alohastitch0626, @the-royal-paintbrush, @just-here-for-ff, @whos6claire, @jodiereedus22, @be-lla-vie, @despoinapav05, @arianyo, @willowpains, @geekmom3, @dark-academia-slut, @aeslenya, @directioner5life, @notjustsomeblonde, @osteopsycho, @travelingmypassion, @tiana76, @angelhxneyy, @princessatoru, @despoinapav05

[hottpinkpenguin]

Kaz brekker with the Nightmares end eventually prompt? Male/gender neutral reader if possible and romantic! If you do it then thank you!

A/n: I always love my first fic for a new character, so thank you anon for putting Kaz Brekker on my list!! this is a tad cheesier than my normal fare but i think our brooding boy Kaz needs a little romance in his life, so here it is. Hope you love it<3

Nightmares Kaz Brekker X GN!Reader WC: 2,031 Content Warnings for: depictions of violence, dead bodies, gore; probably some non-canon details

Kaz’s legs grew heavy and stopped kicking, his back end sinking into the cold waters of Ketterdam’s harbor. Behind him, the rank stench of rotting corpses from the Reaper’s Barge hung like a cloud in the air. The lights of Ketterdam bobbed on the horizon ahead like a beacon, but it seemed with each moment Kaz was drifting further away from the shore. His fingers fumbling to grab hold of his dead brother’s jacket for flotation. He gulped at the night air in the rare moments where his head broke the surface of the waves. The salt water stung the open sores on his face and hands, his body weak from sickness and hunger. The only thought in his mind: swim. 

Trying to stifle a wave of nausea, Kaz grabbed ahold of Jordie’s bobbing corpse and hauled himself as far upward above the waves as he could manage. Kaz let out a strangled sob as his brother’s dead-pale face sank an inch below the water, his lifeless eyes gaping up at the starless sky above. 

“Jordie.”

Kaz choked on his brother’s name, grief and horror twining together in his chest like strangling vines. He tried to push away thoughts of giving up, of letting go of Jordie’s corpse and allowing the sea to take him. 

But something deep within him burned hotter than the firepox that riddled his body. A drive to live, to fight, to survive. Kaz had always had it - he got it from Jordie, he knew. Jordie had taught him how to fight back when the world threatened to crush you. Kaz heard his older brother’s voice echo in his mind: swim, Kaz. 

His vision swam with white dots, but he forced himself to kick his legs, though they felt heavy like anchors. 

Swim, Kaz. Swim. The feel of his brother’s unnaturally stiff, cold skin beneath the thin, water-logged linen shirt seared itself into Kaz’s memory. 

Swim. Kick. Breath. Swim. Kick. Breath.

The lights of Ketterdam drew closer. 

Kick. Kick. Swim.

The faint sounds of the docks tickled his ears. Kaz’s lungs were burning, the firepox that had weakened him and taken his brother’s life making one last, desperate attempt at his strength.

Breath. Kick. Breath. Kick.

Kaz felt his leg bounce off the ragged surface of a rock. The sounds of waves lapping on a rocky coast announced his arrival at the shores of Ketterdam.

Kick. Kick. Kick.

As soon as Kaz felt the pebbles scrape his stomach, he threw himself off his brother’s dead body and emptied his stomach in the sea foam. His head spun with exhaustion, fever, and terror. Next to him, he felt his brother’s body bob against him in the waves. Kaz scrambled away from the feeling, the terror reaching a fever pitch in his mind as he began to understand what he’d done. 

He turned to look back at Jordie, now face-down in the ankle deep waters along Ketterdam’s warehouse district seawall. Jordie’s stiff body was so pale it seemed to shimmer with an unnatural, sickly glow. Kaz shivered violently as panic ripped through every inch of him. Mustering all his strength, he tipped his chin towards the sky and shrieked. He screamed for everything in his life he’d once thought would keep him safe: for Jordie, for his parents, for the world he thought he knew. The shriek felt like it would tear him in half, and Kaz let himself empty the pain he felt inside into the raw dark night. When the scream finally died on his lips with a strangled sob, what was left of the boy that had been Kaz Rietveld knew he would never be the same again…

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * 

Kaz felt himself rear up out of bed, his heart racing and that shriek from so many years before fading like an echo in his ears. He was panting, his body soaked with sweat. He swiped back the stray strands of hair plastered to his flushed forehead with a gloved hand. 

“Kaz?”

A familiar voice drifted through the barely open door to his private quarters above the Crow Club. Kaz felt the knot of panic in his chest loosen slightly at the sound. 

“Kaz, are you alright?” 

Ever respectful, you didn’t barge through the door to check on him, although Kaz could hear the tense itch of concern in your voice. Kaz let his eyes close as he tried to clamp down the lid on his memories. 

“I’m fine,” he called back, although his voice wavered pathetically. There was a split second of quiet before you replied.

“Nightmares, boss?”

The question was so quiet Kaz almost didn’t hear you. He let out a shaky exhale through lips that quivered ever so slightly. A gentle tap on the door: a question. 

“Come in, y/n.”

Kaz wasn’t used to letting people into his quarters. Even Inej and Jesper, his closest friends - if Kaz Brekker could be said to have such relationships - were rare guests. Kaz didn’t like that he let you in, but you felt like a tonic. It wasn’t a coincidence that Kaz had asked you to take night watches for him. Your presence seemed to ease a pain Kaz had felt for so long he’d forgotten he had it. And on nights like this one - nights where Kaz’s dreams swallowed him whole and spat him back out - he needed you close. He’d never admit it aloud, although he didn’t need to. There was an understanding between you two, a tacit agreement. You’d stay close to him, he’d look after you. 

You opened the door and slipped in, a momentary brightening from the hallway lights followed by the return of darkness to Kaz’s quarters. 

“They were bad tonight.” Not a question, but an observation. Kaz looked over in your direction as his eyes adjusted to the darkness. He could barely make out your silhouette, although he could see the moonlight from his open window dancing in your large, thoughtful eyes. Damn those eyes, Kaz cursed to himself silently. They would be his undoing. 

“Yes.” 

Kaz never talked much about his dreams, even to you. He was grateful that you were content with what little information he did give. He had a feeling that you recognized just how difficult it was for him to tolerate the miniscule amounts of vulnerability he allowed you to see. 

From the doorway, you nodded. You didn’t move to come closer to Kaz, and he didn’t motion for you to. You were close enough for Kaz to hear your even, steady breathing. He focused on that sound and tried to slow his own inhales and exhales to match. Even though it violated every instinct he had, Kaz let his eyelids flutter close. You hung back next to the door. The sounds of the sleeping city outside filled the quiet. Minutes passed, and Kaz let his mind loosen its grip on the fear that his nightmare had awoken. 

When he opened his eyes, he found you exactly where he’d left you. Leaned against the wall, your kind eyes still trained on him. Kaz scooted up to lean back against the headboard, his bare chest now rising and falling in time with your own breathing. 

“You have nightmares too, if I remember?” 

Kaz caught the flicker of surprise in your gaze. Kaz usually never talked on nights like this, not unless you asked him something. Not only was he speaking, he was asking about you. Surprise gave way to a tender smirk, and you nodded.

“I did. Still do, but they’re less now.” Flickers of moments from your past that plagued your dreams danced in your head. A field of charred bodies… your sister in her favorite day dress lying face down in the blood-soaked mud next to the smoking remnants of your house… the way the smoke from your burned-out village blotted out of the sun… 

You shook the images away like gnats, bringing yourself back to the moment, back to Kaz. 

He was watching you intently. His dark hair was deliciously disheveled, and you could see the smooth planes of his stomach peeking out above the bedsheets.

“How did you do it?” he asked quietly. You forced yourself away from his body and tried to focus on his words, realizing you’d lost track of the conversation. You cocked an eyebrow at him, unsure of his meaning. 

“How did you cope with them, I mean,” Kaz clarified. “How did you get them to go away?” A gentle night breeze fluttered the gauzy curtains by the window next to his bedside. 

You turned Kaz’s question over in your head, wondering where to start.

“They never really went away,” you confessed, chewing on your lip. You’d resigned yourself long ago that you’d live the rest of your life with memories of the day your family was taken from you carved into your soul. It wasn’t something you would escape or ever come to terms with. It simply was. 

You tried to say as much, but the words that dangled on the edge of your tongue felt all wrong. Your mouth opened and closed with a heavy sigh. 

Kaz’s lips quirked up at the sound. He turned to look out into Ketterdam’s streets, the moonlight casting his handsome face in a gentle glow. 

“That’s not a fair question,” he mused with a hint of embarrassment. “I’m sorry to bother you, y/n. I’m fine. You can go back to your post.” 

You felt a twinge of disappointment at Kaz’s words, although they were less of a dismissal and more of a question. You turned to leave, but hesitated as your hand touched the doorknob. 

When you turned back to him, he was staring at you with something that looked like hope in his eyes. It made your heart leap in your chest. 

“One thing I learned about nightmares, boss. Even nightmares end eventually.” 

Kaz considered your words thoughtfully. You held his gaze as you kept talking. 

“The things that gave us our nightmares ended, too. It doesn’t mean we forget them, it doesn’t mean we move on. But it does mean that we aren’t prisoners forever. The dreams, the memories… they’re with us, but they don’t control us. They teach us things, but they don’t command us.”

Kaz drank in your every word, watching the way your expression glazed over as whatever memories haunted you swam just beneath the surface of your eyes. He knew that look: he’d seen it in himself many times before. The way you wore it though was different. He marveled at the realization that he’d never really seen you before. He’d felt you, felt the calming effect that your presence had on him. But now he could see why: you understood him. As much as anyone could. Kaz had always liked to think that others only knew him as much as he let them know him. You were proof that that wasn’t true. It both frightened him and delighted him. 

“Sorry… that didn’t make much sense.” You let your eyes drop to the ground, suddenly embarrassed by your outburst. You turned to the door, eager to make your escape from the awkward moment. 

“It makes perfect sense, actually,” he interjected quickly. You hesitated, halfway out the door into the dimly lit hallway. With the aid of the lamps from the hall, Kaz could see you more clearly. He thought he detected a faint flush on your cheeks, and he had to bite down a smirk at the sight. He was glad the light didn’t reach him, because you’d see a similar heat on his face. He’d taken a big step with you tonight, but he wasn’t ready to show you how he felt. Not yet. 

“Thank you, y/n,” he called after you. 

You turned halfway back to him, not meeting his eyes. From your profile, Kaz could see the faint hints of a smile. 

“You’re welcome, Kaz.”

You left him alone with a quiet click of his door. Kaz hated how much he loved the way his name sounded in your voice.

This time when Kaz fell asleep, it wasn’t his past that swirled in his dreams, but hopes for the future.

[defire]

Back to the Dregs Part 5

Part 1 Next

Content: Beating, injuries, gaslighting, memories of child abuse including burning, gang violence, restraints

Michael ground his teeth as he tried to think of a way out that hadn't already failed.

He was trapped in a truck with the Westside Kids. His hands, zip-tied between his back, were numbly resting on the gap of skin between pj top and bottom. He was hyperventilating as Jordie seemed to be deciding whether to finish breaking his ribs. If his lung was penetrated, he could drown in his own blood. His breaths puffed against the floor as he struggled onto his knees, resting his head on the floor.

"Wait, please--" He groaned.

Jordie stepped toward him and Michael saw his leg pull back.

"Jordie I'm sorry!" He said desperately.

He cringed with his cheek to the floor as he awaited the next kick, but Jordie's foot came down on the floor instead.

"That wasn't so hard, was it?" Jordie panted.

Michael trembled, bound hands curling to fists.

"That's all you wanted?" His voice was low.

Jordie didn't answer, but Pete stepped closer.

"Now, sit up, kid. And listen to me."

Michael ground his teeth. He couldn't even keep track of his thoughts at all anymore, and his back was hurting like fuck and getting hot.

He forced his head off the ground and grunted at the pain in his ribs when he moved.

"Can I just, listen from here, Pete?" He panted.

His answer was a kick in the shoulder that sent him back-first into the wall of the truck, jarring his collarbone and forcing more air out of his damaged lungs.

"What--ugh--" He grimaced, trying to keep tears out of his voice as he pushed himself back with his legs.

"We haven't even got to the good part yet." Jordie sneered.

"Calm down, Michael." Pete said. "For now, all you need to know is, as long as you comply and don't be a baby about this, you'll be fine."

Michael clenched his jaw with frustration.

"Who knows, maybe this conflict goes well for you, and you end up safe with the Huers again."

"Safe, huh." Michael closed his eyes as his chest tightened with anxiety.

So getting caught by the Huers was the good option? Fuck.

Joseph Huer and his son, Morgan, were the only living "relatives" Michael had.

He had a good reason not to associate with them anymore.

It all flashed through his head in the time it took for him to blink a couple times.

"No, Mr. Huer." He heard his fifteen-year-old self grind out the words. "I'm not running your damn drugs. I'm not going to juvie for your stupid 'business'."

His voice had cracked all over that declaration. He knew, when Joseph Huer snapped his fingers and called,

"Morgan!" He had made a fucking mistake.

He tried not to remember the sizzling. He focused on the struggling, the screaming for help that was choked off by Morgan's grip on his throat. The way his feet burned--no, no!

"...No." Michael realized was saying it out loud, and bit his tongue.

He looked up at his kidnappers, fighting the urge to scream and throw himself at the doors, to provoke them, to make the thoughts stop.

The car turned and bumped over grass for a moment.

"Behave." Pete said. "Got it?"

Michael gritted his teeth.

"I don't cooperate with criminals."

"Ironic." Gabe laughed.

Pete smiled condescendingly, pulling out his piece. The Taurus.

"Oh, a Taurus." Michael said, forcing part of a smile. "Nice choi--"

"Beretta." The man cut him off. "Now you can either agree to behave or we can gag you. If I think you're actually going to escape, I'll just shoot you. Your only chance to live is by coming with us quietly. Got it, Michael?"

Michael glared as the truck shut off.

Then he took a breath and shouted,

"Help! I'm being kid--"

He broke off as Jordie slapped him.

"You were warned, bitch."

Slam. Slam. Smack. Slam. Jordie beat Michael's face into the side of the truck over and over.

Blood was running freely down his face by the time they dragged him into a smelly brick building by the arms, barely walking. It smelled like gasoline and cars, and as he plodded up the stairs, face feeling like a pounding mass of pulp, he heard his breaths coming ragged.

The upper floor was a huge, all-wood place, with rafters bare and piles of boxes and plastic crates being the only dividers in the room. Moonlight came in through a window on the far end of the room.

Michael was taken to a corner that was surrounded by crates, which were mostly covered by a few tarps and sheets.

When Jordie let go of his arm, he sank to his knees with a groan. He was hurting so much. He could feel his heartbeat in his ears. He'd bitten his tongue, and was now dribbling blood, unwilling to swallow it.

"So can we..." Someone said.

"Not till those bruises set." Pete said.

As a few electric lanterns were turned on, there was the tramp of heavy boots as a really big guy clomped over.

"Hey, no luck?" He said.

"You wish." Gabe said, gesturing to where Michael sat, drooling blood onto the picture of charmander on the leg of his pj's.

"Hey, how ya feeling?" The guy smiled and squatted down to get on Michael's level. "Hard night, I bet?"

Gabe scoffed.

"I--ungh." Michael's tongue ached.

"Hey," The guy patted Michael's shoulder, and he cringed. "Hey, no hard feelings. Sorry for the rough treatment. They don't mean anything by it, okay? Come on, look at me. Come on." His fingers teased gently under Michael's chin, encouragingly.

Michael lifted his wincing face up to look i nto the face of the speaker. He wasn't masked, just a stocking cap.

Pete and some of the others moved off a ways to talk amongst themselves.

"Hey, I'm Chris." The guy said, then paused, then asked again, "How ya feelin?"

Michael dropped his head with a small shake, hair falling forward on either side of his face.

"Hey Chris." He slurred, trying not to use his tongue. "My hands, so numb, and they ache."

He was so afraid. It had dulled to a slow pound of anxiety under the ache in his face and ribs. Something bad was going to happen to him. He wasn't going to let on how scared he was.

"Hey," Chris's voice dropped lower as he wiped tears and blood off Michael's cheek with his thumb. "It's not that bad, huh?" His tone changed when he saw Michael shudder. "...You fought hard, didn't you." He said.

Michael glared at him.

"I've seen my share of battles, so to speak." Chris said.

"Me too." Michael said. "Enough to know that you're just as much of a bastard as the rest of em. Maybe more."

Chris winced.

"Don't try to act nice, Chris." Michael raised his head again slowly. "I'm too tired for all that ssshit... Can you at least let my hands go? I'm going to get nerve damage..."

"The room's almost ready, man." Chris was a little colder now. "Look. I know it's been a hard night, so I'll chalk it up to that, but you'll probably be with us for awhile. If I were you, I'd consider making it easier on yourself. Honey catches the fly, you know?"

Michael shook his head, trying not to cry at the words "with us for awhile".

"Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck," He started muttering, grinding his teeth to keep from crying.

At that moment, Pete came back, gun out, pointing more toward Michael's leg than anything.

The words his foster father had said that day flashed through his mind.

"Make sure he can't run to the police, that way."

Mr. Huer had said that as Morgan squished Michael's face into the rug, while Mr. Huer drew the heated poker out of the fire.

Don't burn my feet. Michael thought. It was like a mantra that his thoughts made every time this memory came back. He hadn't gotten to say it because Morgan was half-suffocating him. Even his scream had sounded more like a wheeze than anything, even though the pain had been the worst thing he'd ever felt in his life.

"Let that teach you not to speak that way to me." Mr. Huer had said.

Michael was snapped back to the present by a light slap on his bruised face. He winced hard as pain echoed into his skull.

"Michael." Jordie said. "Come on. Let's go."

Taglist:

@fleur-a-whump @watermelons-dont-grow-on-trees @whumped-by-glitter @whumpwritings @mimostic

[wosowrites]

Loosing Control (Jordan Nobbs x Reader)

Warnings: none

a/n: for my well being, i’m going to pretend Jordan is still with arsenal!! also, jordan is the love interest and plays a big part in the story but it’s also kind of an arsenal x reader fix. based on this request:

Prompt: In which fans were getting disrespectful ( i’ll be using this prompt a lot bcs i love it )

You loved playing at the Emirates. It was one of your favorite stadiums to play at, behind Wembley. But, with big stadiums, came more fans, and usually you loved the environment they brought. The cheers, the happiness, the support… it was always welcome by the Arsenal girls. Except today, it seemed as though people were unusually un-tamed.

It was Leah’s birthday, and the second leg of the quarter final against Bayern, you were 2-0 up at half, and then after. Arsenal was playing amazing. Your girlfriend, Jordan Nobbs got subbed on in the 73 minute. You were worried about her, she wasn’t getting the playing time she deserves. But that was a thought for later. You pushed hard, working to try and keep Bayern out of Manu’s box. As a defender, you were making crucial tackles constantly, and by the end of the game, you just fell down onto your back.

Jordan ran up to you, smiling wildly and kneeling down behind you, doing a drum roll on your stomach. "That was fucking amazing!" She yelled, you let out a laugh and sat up, soon helped up by the smaller girl. You hugged her tightly, then pressing your forehead against hers.

Your bubble popped when you saw the Arsenal girls and staff lining up and holding hands, all of them looking at the fans. You and Jordan ran up to them and you grabbed Leah’s hand in one, and Jordan’s in the other. You all ran up to the fans and lifted your hands in the air, the crowd was wild.

You took a few pictures, and talked to a few of the girls on both teams, consoling Giorgia Stanway. Then, fans started calling your name and you walked over to them, smiling. You signed jerseys, hats, flags, scarves, arms, paper, phone cases. Everything. But it was starting to get a lot. "Y/n!! Look over here! Y/N! WHAT THE HELL DUDE?!" An especially angry man was yelling at you, and most fans around him were eyeing him weirdly. Jordan was signing things beside you and Manu was busy talking to a girl wearing her keeping jersey on your left. You didn’t really notice what was going on in the cluster of thighs being waved at you. But then you heard someone say. "Y/n! Can you sign my cleat?" And then you saw something flying towards you.

The object made collision with your head, making you let out a scream and double over in pain. You rested your hands on your knees, bending over. After a second to recover, you brought your hand to your forehead and felt sticky, wet blood. There was then a hand on your back as you straightened up and placed the entirety of your palm on your cut. When you took away your hand, you saw it covered crimson red. Manu looked at you, worried and then Jordan noticed the commotion as the crowd had gotten quite silent. The people in other sections of the stadium were looking around in confusion and so we’re both teams and their managers. You looked up at the fans, anger you couldn’t hold in on your face. You slipped off your shirt, and then the fans started yelling, thinking you would give it to them. "What the hell is wrong with you guys?!" You yelled, but no one but Manu and Jordan who were at your side heard. Pressing your jersey to your forehead, you walked back to the bench, accompanied by your keeper and girlfriend. "What the hell happened?" Jordan asked, stopping you in the field and placing her hand over yours that was keeping the jersey to your face. She pulled the jersey away gently and looked at the cut before applying pressure with your jersey again. "Some psycho threw their cleat at me. They wanted me to sign it." You said. "You’re joking." Manu said, looking behind her shoulder. "I wish. Shit it fucking hurts." You were now almost at the bench when Jonas and the medical team came rushing up to you. "What happened?" Jonas asked, doing the same gesture Jordan had done and taking the jersey off your forehead. "Someone threw their cleat at her. I’ll kill them! I’m not joking." Jordan snarled. "I’ll kill them too! Let’s go!" Jonas said, "Hey! I’m coming too!" Katie yelled, wobbling on her crutches. They all started to walk towards the section you had just came back from. But most of the Arsenal girls, having noticed a commotion had surrounded you guys now, and Jonas got held back by Stina and Rafaelle, Leah held back little Jordan and Caitlin stepped in front of Katie. "Calm down. Okay everyone take a second to breathe. Let’s go in the tunnel." Stina told the group as loudly as she could.

The medic had replaced your dirty jersey with a wet towel that you were holding to your head as you walked into the tunnel, you walked into the changing room and everyone took places at their cubbies. "Okay girls, we’ll address the… y/n situation-" Jonas started saying as you laughed. "-later. But right now… WERE ON TO THE SEMIS!" He yelled. The group started screaming and jumping out of joy, but you stayed put because the medical examiner was cleaning your cut. "You won’t need stitches. I’ll just put a bandaid over it to keep it closed." The man said. You nodded at him and thanked him. He put on the bandaid, informed Jonas and then walked out. "Do you think they got the person throwing their cleat at you on video?" Katie asked you. "I don’t know. Maybe?" You asked.

There was a TV in the changing room and sooner than you knew it, Leah had turned the broadcasts on and rewinded it. Surely enough, there was a camera panning the stadium just as you got the cleat to the head. You can clearly see how you doubled over and how Manu came rushing to you.

"Ten bucks says I can go back out there and make the person who threw that shoe wish they were never born." Jordan said, only half joking. "I’d pay good money to see that. But you don’t want to end up on those 'when arsenal women loose control' videos on youtube." Caitlin joked. "Oh my god… I yelled. I yelled at the fans when they started screaming for my jersey when I took it off to wipe my blood. Am I gonna be on those videos? I can’t be on those videos. Those are like.. 98% clips of Katie!" You said, making Katie scowl at you even though she knew you were right. "Don’t scowl. You know it’s true." You said to her.

"No one heard you, the stadium was too loud. It’s all good." Manu said, smiling at you from across the room.

You went on to shower and then change, and eventually it was only you and Jordan left in the locker room. "I’m proud of you. You played great." You told her, walking up to her and putting your hands on her waist. She held your arms and smiled at you. "Thank you. It felt good to be on even if it was only for 20 minutes." She told you, tucking a strand of wet hair behind your ear. She leaned in to kiss you, and you kissed, tangling your fingers through her hair. "Let’s go love birds." Kim Little said, peeping through the door way. "We don’t get any privacy, do we?" You laughed, keeping your hands on Jordan as you both looked at Kim. "You’re making out in the changing room like teens. Let’s go." She laughed, walking away. "Sit with me?" You asked, looking back at her. "Why do you always ask me that? I’ve been sitting with you every trip for years." Jordan said, grabbing her bag and yours. "For old times sake. To remember the first time you asked me to sit with you." You said simply.

7 years ago.

It was your first away game since joining Arsenal. You had joined only a month ago, but due to international break and the schedule, all your games had been home games. You were nervous, not wanting to be the one sitting by yourself. You had gotten close with the girls, but you were still shy. Jordan Nobbs had caught your eye, having talked to her a few times. You were 21, and fresh out of the university of Portland. Moving to London… it was hard. But you knew it would be worth it. The team were all waiting at the training centre with their luggage, waiting for the bus that would take them to Manchester for their game against City. You were standing quietly in a circle with a few of your teammates when Jordan came running up, the girl looking even smaller beside her large luggage. "Am I late?" She said, joining the group. "Yep. As always." Leah teased. "Damn it. Don’t tell Pedro." Jordan said. You smiled at yourself, finding her tardiness funny. "What you laughing at?" She teased you, nudging your side. "You." You laughed, looking into her eyes with a smile. Jordan looked back, ignoring the girls who had started up their conversation again. "Hey, sit with me?" She asked. Your eyes widened at the offer, but you nodded. "I’d love too."

[thedelusionreaderbitch]

Kaz Brekker x male! Reader - Infinite

A/n: I think I kinda trauma dumped onto this fic a little so whoops-

Request (by anon): Hii! I found your blog not long ago and I LOVE YOUR WRITING AHHHH 🫶🫶

I was wondering if you could write a gn or male shadow summoner!reader x Kaz Brekker where they're Darklings kid but ran away due to him being a bad father. The reader lived in Ketterdam for quite some time now and met Kaz in his early days there. They trust eachother and know alot about other but reader hides who his father is. then one day reader has a worse day remembering all the good – and bad – memories with The Darkling and in The Small Palace and is overwhelmed, so he helps reader and that's how he finds out about why they ran away and all, but Kaz understands and doesn't push the reader away and it just brings them closer??

Sort of a hurt/comfort. If you won't write it that's fine, I'd just really wanna see you do this! (￣ω￣)

Warnings: child abuse, trauma (10X but not in the way you think), the darkling, death, canon? we don't know her, there is a bit of inej slander but it's a trauma reponse and gets fixed later on in the fic, I think that's it? You have been warned!

The 3 P's:

[pov: 3rd person] [pronouns used: he/him] [pairings: (past! parental!) darkling x reader, (romantic!) kaz x reader, (platonic! mentioned!) kaz x inej]

Finite.

That's what would happen, if he did something wrong, or truly let him in. Kaz could only see so deep into him before he would stop him, send him away or make it seem like everything was okay.

His shaking hands gripped the sink as tears ran down his face.

How could he do that to him? How could Kaz chose Inej, over himself when he knew, he knew that he was a shadow summoner, that if he was found out he would be killed, or worse. Taken back to the little palace.

He couldn't, he can't, he-

He would never go back.

But Kaz had made him go back, on a job, to get that stupid sun summoner, then he chose Inej over him, by asking if she was okay. He never asked, he never looked, he just had to make sure that his little Wraith was alive. His greatest investment.

A scream tore through his throat and shadows were ripped from him as the cut went around the room.

How could he. He was a fool, he trusted him, why couldn't he-

Why couldn't he just care?

Though, he doesn't care for him, he tells himself over and over again, he doesn't care for Kaz Brekker, not when they were children and certainly not now. He can't care, because love can't be given that easily, he has to work for it and he has certainly not worked, or given Kaz enough.

His love would always be restricted.

The sound of a cane coming into contact with the broken in floor boards made him laugh, it was a mean sound, it was cruel and broken but so right.

He sounded like him.

That didn't matter, just like how Kaz was nothing.

A hand was placed beside his, and his breath caught in his throat, he couldn't do this, because as soon as this was over Kaz wouldn't even look his way. He wouldn't ask if he was okay, he wouldn't ask how he was holding up, he wouldn't be of value to him.

Abruptly he pulled away and crossed his arms over his chest, his shadows dancing in the distance, mocking him. Another reminder of what he cannot escape.

"I shouldn't have brought you on that job."

Something in him snaps at those words, no he never wanted to go, but he was enough- no he deserved to go and get that money. He didn't need Kaz to tell him things he couldn't change, he needed Kaz to tell him things he could. Like his love wasn't limited, please say it isn't.

It is though, isn't it? All things have limits.

Scoffing, he turns around to face him and he's not prepared for the emotion, the boy with the cane presents him with.

Sorrow, incredible sorrow.

Has he seen how he's been spiraling? Is all he truly feels is pity?

He doesn't want Kaz's pity, he didn't when he handpicked him off the streets only weeks after Jordie had died. He doesn't need any more pity, he got lots of it from certain members of the little palace, from Baghra.

"Leave me alone Kaz. I don't want to talk to you."

His words are a juxtaposition to what he's really feeling, it's the irony in it all. The greatest joke of all time, because he does want Kaz to talk to him, and he doesn't want Kaz to leave him alone. To leave him, to find someone better, someone more worth his time.

"No." Kaz speaks softly. "I saw how you reacted when you saw the darkling that day, I knew that you were a shadow summoner and I was a fool to think that man could be a good father."

He blinks at Brekker, once, twice, three times, before everything releases.

Oh.

The shadows in the distance stop dancing, as his shoulders fall down, so do his shadows. They stop dancing, then they fall, only to be left with the occasionally swirl now that his emotions aren't everywhere at once. Now that he understands Kaz's intentions, now that he's slowly realizing Kaz understands him.

"The darkling isn't my biological father." Is where he starts, and simultaneously's pauses to see if he would stop him. Walk out at the mere mention of his sob story. He doesn't.

"But my parents left me the moment they found out I was a shadow summoner, then he took me."

He squeezed his eyes shut, he didn't remember much about his biological parents, but he remembers his mother's smile, and his father's hands. Often he wonders what would have happened if they had stayed, if they would have loved a monster child enough so he could love them back. Enough so he wouldn't become one later, or that one would never find him. The world isn't fair though, and it is made up of monsters. He just so happened to be raised by one, and perhaps even became one.

It's feasibly disturbing that he doesn't back away and retch at the thought.

"I don't know if he wasn't ever not, bad, if he was I don't remember him as such. He only treated me cruelly, as a-"

Mirror to himself.

Was that all he was? A mirror to the terrible black heretic? A mirror to the monster who killed, to try and make things better? Was he destined to become him?

Then, a hand without the familiar leather clasps that enclosed them, brush against his face and his eyes shot open.

It's Kaz, it's always been Kaz.

"You are not their mistake, you are not him." He whispers in his ear. "You valued and safe."

He doesn't know if he'll ever be able to tell Kaz the true extent of everything the black heretic put him through, if he'll ever even tell him why he's like this. So dependent, but pushing away the moment they connect.

But he knows he can't be a reflection of the darkling, because he would still be at the little palace then. He would still be training with that man he used to call his father, he would have not run away to meet his faithful one in Ketterdam.

They were both broken, and bruised, and hurt beyond what anyone could ever comprehend. For now though, they have each other, and he has to remind himself that it makes it all worth it. That it's enough.

Kaz lets his hand slide but he understands, he always will.

Kaz may ask his Wraith if she's okay because she's a valuable investment, his friend. However Kaz will come back to him after, and they'll be the one brushing hands, skin to skin. Kaz will be the one to show him his inside, without his armor, and he'll desperately try to do the same.

Love can come easy, people can be redeemed if the person who's forgiving them so wishes it. He's done terrible things under the command of a man he called his father, things he can never take back. Lives he can never get back.

His father would get no redemption, but he would make sure that shadow summoners would, that he would not be just a reflection of his father.

He does that by staying in Ketterdam, staying with Kaz.

"Thank you." He murmurs back to the bastard.

Kaz just gives him the barest of smiles. "Always."

Love isn't finite, love is infinite.

Words 1236

-thedelusionreaderbitch

Grishaverse taglist: @kaqua @rika90 @thefandomplace @musical-theatre-obsessed-dumbass @gallysonegoodlung @navs-bhat @sumsebien @dontjudgeabookbythecover @brekker-zenik @alohastitch0626 @brekkers-desigirl @emmsamultifan06

[hampurrger]

Aiden and Jordi ride a Rollercoaster

Based off when I asked people in the official WD server for recommendations on what to draw with aiden and my dreams answered my own question

I imagined Jordi screaming from excitement and aiden straight faced

[jahayla-parker]

Symmetrical Healing: Kaz Brekker × Sister!Reader

Part 6

Description and Warnings: view miniseries navigation Previous Parts Here

Recap: “Kaz?” Y/n questioned quietly.

Kaz looked over at y/n and pursed his lips slightly. “Hmm?”

“You don’t need to feel selfish for being glad I did the treatment,” y/n expressed warmly. “I don’t regret it,” she admitted as she softly shook her head, “it let me be here with you”. Y/n held silent eye contact with Kaz as he analyzed her words and acted as a human lie detector.

Not seeing any tells, Kaz nodded in acceptance. He gave y/n a small but sincere smile.

“I’ll try to find a way to work on my nightmares so I don’t keep hearing him-“ y/n expressed, thinking ahead.

Kaz sighed loudly. He looked down and fiddled with his fingers bashfully. “I lied too,” Kaz confessed, his cheeks stained pink.

“What?” Y/n questioned, shifting her gaze away from the dried leaves around them. She turned to face Kaz, giving him her undivided attention.

“About my hallucination,” Kaz mumbled. He didn’t want to talk about this per se. But, he also saw what not talking about his own struggles had done to y/n thus far.

Y/n paused silently for a moment a she collected her thoughts. Having found the best way to ask her question, she softly replied, “you had one?”

Kaz nodded wordlessly. However, upon seeing y/n was patiently waiting for him to sort through his thoughts enough to explain, he sucked in some of the crisp autumn air. “It was hi-,” Kaz’s voice cracked lightly as he stopped to correct himself, “J-Jordie.” He knew saying their late brother’s name felt more normal for y/n, so he would do so, even if harder for him.

Y/n remained silent. She simply nodded faintly as she offered Kaz a look she knew would signal for him to continue when he was ready.

“He kept… kept drowning me…” Kaz admitted, shivering at the memory. “He screamed at me… about how horrible I am, how bad of a brother-,” he mumbled.

“Kaz-“ y/n sighed, her lips pulled into a deep frown.

Kaz shook his head. “I don’t need sympathy.” He shifted his tight jaw. “I’m just saying it so you know you’re not… alone in this,” Kaz explained.

“Well, too bad,” y/n huffed. She shot her brother a frustrated defiant stare.

“What-“ Kaz responded, brows furrowed.

Y/n shifted even more, centering her body towards Kaz at a sharper angle. “You’re getting sympathy, even if I have to shove it down your throat like those damn butterflies,” she threatened.

Kaz choked on a laugh. His eyes were wide in shock. But his smirk showed his amusement over y/n’s loving threat.

Y/n smiled warmly at her brother. “Kaz, I love you. Saints, you’re so unfairly hard on yourself when it comes to protecting me,” she informed Kaz. “I know you mean well, but, you don’t always have to do that. And, I don’t want you to if it means keeping things bottled up,” y/n added, knowing her brother enough to know he’d argue. “Especially not by keeping me from knowing what’s going on inside that brilliant mind of yours,” she commented, smiling at the way Kaz’s cheeks flushed over her compliment. “You’ve been through too much yourself, Kaz,” she said, her voice deeply sincere, “even if you don’t choose to look at it that way. I do.” Y/n sat up straight, puffing her chest out dramatically as she added, “and, you can’t fault me for that when you do the same thing when it comes to me. So deal with it”. Y/n lowered her puffed chest back to normal, a soft sigh leaving her lips as she did. “I’m going to want to know that’s troubling you. I’m going to want to help in whatever way I can, or at least be there to listen.” She looked around to make sure no one had ventured over here to check on the siblings. When she saw the coast was still clear, y/n continued explaining to Kaz what needed to happen. “We both need to find a way to heal. It won’t be easy. But, that’s how we both get through this; together,” she hummed. “You want to protect me? You can do that by not letting me question my sanity; by doing what you just did when you showed me that I’m not alone in this,” y/n answered her own question. “I hear you when you say you need me,” she acknowledged kindly. “But, Kaz, like it or not, I need you,” y/n concluded, tension deflating at finally getting it off her chest.

Kaz was silent as he processed y/n’s speech. Once he’d analyzed every word and y/n’s body language, he nodded slowly. This was new to him, but if he had y/n, he could do it. “Okay,” Kaz accepted.

“Okay?” Y/n asked in a semi-squeak. She was surprised that Kaz was so accepting of the request. As much as she loved her brother, she knew he was not typically very accommodating to people’s wishes.

Kaz nodded more adamantly this time. “I hear you.” He swallowed the bile in his throat from the idea of making a promise. But this was his sister, this was y/n; and he could do it for her. “I.. I can’t promise I’ll be perfect at it,” Kaz pointed out, “or even remotely decent”. He sighed loudly. “But, I… I can promise that I’ll try… that… I’ll learn,” Kaz assured y/n.

Y/n felt her eyes watering again. Only, this time it was for a very different reason. “For me?” She asked timidly.

“For you,” Kaz agreed. He nodded his head as he politely held eye contact with y/n.

Y/n smiled at Kaz for a moment in silence. She then closed her eyes as she felt her body relax. “Thank you, Kaz,” y/n hummed.

Kaz shook his head. “Thank you,” he said, resuming eye contact as y/n opened her eyes.

“So…,” y/n murmured softly. “H-how do we even start?” She asked. They had a lot of pain they needed to heal from. How did they go about this?

“Together,” Kaz said simply. “The way we always do.”

~The End~

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[steelflexbell]

"From what I knew they used to be friends during the show and still hang out after it

But Josh had always  been envious of Drake and Drake idolized Josh because of trauma

So after Josh became more popular he saw Drake more as a tool than a friend and have been shitty with him toward the years, only hangging out with him for views and throwing him when it was not convenient

Drake was always making justifications for Josh and after the doc came out the people attack Josh for being such a horrible friend so he wrote Drake, but it was to gain the public back, I think after therapy Drake started to realized that Josh didn't cared about him, but still decide to denfended him "

"I know people are confused about his relationship with Josh Peck because there are some contradicting behaviours and statements but the truth is Drake has always been inconsistent in regards to Josh so even If it was serious it is neither shocking nor new. It seems as If he himself is at times confused about his feelings towards Josh.

On one hand he will defend Josh and portray a picture of brotherhood to the audience (which I think is more wishful thinking and emotional dependency rather than a depiction of reality). On the other hand he will act as If he couldn't care less about him, like on the Jordi interview (which I think is a facade and a way to shield himself from more pain) I think his first instinct is usually to defend and protect Josh, because inside there is a deeply rooted admiration and love for him that will probably never go away.

Then again, on the podcast with his ex wife they spent several minutes talking what a shitty friend Josh was. I know his wife initiated the talk, and Drake didn't look comfortable and tried defending Josh at first. But he also looked shameful and guilty af because he knows deep down what his wife said was nothing but true. His wife at one point even started telling him straight up in the face that Josh basically hates him and Drake couldn't even deny it he just laughed it off with a painfilled smile because again, he knows it's true, even If it hurts.

So I think it's a love/hate relationship on Drake's part, his brain knows he should let go and that he deserves better than that, but his heart can't. I think Josh on the other hand has ended their bond a long time ago. Drake needs to come to terms with the fact he probably doesn't and will never have that bond that he craves for ever again. I think the realization of that and the feeling of betrayal will shine through every once in a while; which will result in petty remarks like this. However I still don't think that's gonna keep him from defending the shit out of Josh at the next chance given."

From Reddit and I agree with all of it, what about you?

I have a lot of thoughts on their friendship and inability to be normal about each other that people aren't ready for. I'll say that much. But brotherhood is an interesting way to describe it since Drake has also said some things that don't exactly scream brotherhood (but not in a negative way). And in regards to what his ex-wife said, the comments I'm thinking of would 100% lead to her thinking much more negatively about Josh anyway.

[restinslices]

Crows As Vampires

Idk why I chose that gif-. Anyway I have had no inspiration or motivation to do anything. The mental illness is hitting. I am on my knees begging y’all to let me have this😭. No one’s born a vampire cause I don’t think vampires should be able to reproduce and in this universe how you’re changed determines what kind of vampire you are. I’ll explain later.

Kaz Brekker 

Kaz has screwed over plenty of people in his life. That's how life is as a criminal and he was damn good at it. Almost an expert. 

Almost being the keyword 

Kaz screwed over the wrong person. Unbeknownst to him, this person was actually a witch. The witch cursed him to have these symptoms we would call “vampirism”

Immortality so he would watch everyone he loves die. A lust for blood since he was a leech that led others like a lamb to a slaughter. Burning in the sun so he could stay a rat in the shadows. Ect. Ect. 

This would've been terrible for anyone else, but this is Kaz Brekker we're talking about. 

Also this isn't how nature works. Things can't be only good or only bad so nature gave him a few perks. 

All it took was some practicing and getting used to then boom, he was living his best life. 

He doesn't need the cane anymore, but he keeps it to trick others. 

Genuinely thinks the witch that cursed him is the dumbest person ever because all the weaknesses he can get around. The sun? He doesn't go outside much and can have others do shit for him. Holy water? Does this man look like he goes to church? A wooden stake? What are the chances? Garlic? He prefers onion powder-

He's a traditional vampire so blood tastes good no matter what. I don't know if he'd go hunting himself though. He'd probably have another Crow bring him something, like bringing the homie Wendy's if you just got some. 

Best part of vampirism is probably the animal control. It's the perfect distraction and this man is nuts so he'd probably have a rat jump on somebody with a phobia. 

I'd say hypnosis but I feel like Kaz enjoys the thrill he gets from outsmarting everyone. Hypnosis would be so boring to him. It'd only be used if he absolutely needed to. 

I think the part of vampirism he'd struggle with the most would be the feeding though. Not out of guilt but too many dead bodies make people raise a brow and that would affect business. 

Kaz would prefer feeding on people who don't really have anyone. I know you're thinking “duh! That's so obvious! Who wouldn't?”. Jesper. More on him later though. 

Kaz wants to go after opponents but knows that'll stir too much shit up. 

I wanna say he refuses to feed on kids ‘cause it'd remind him of him and Jordie but this is the same man who threatened a little girl and said he'd kill all her dogs just to make sure she wouldn't snitch. And when Wylan was like “that's not ok” he was like “I could've killed her and made it look like an accident”, so idk. Man is deranged. 

Kaz has red eyes because… uhhh… I want him to. 

I think vampires should have another face when they feed and his gotta be the scariest. This is The Bastard of The Barrel we're talking about here. You gotta feel fear in your veins. 

Overall, he's enjoying vampirism. Big mistake giving this man powers. 

Inej Ghafa

Inej would get turned when she's at the Menagerie 

One of the regulars came in but he was off. He was way more jumpy and sensitive to things. Inej knocked something over and instead of annoyance, he seemed to be in pain. Like his ears hurt. 

She didn't say anything though. Tante Heleen would kill her. 

Suddenly the man attacked her and bit her. She screamed but he covered her mouth with his hand. Inej did the only thing she could think of and bit his hand hard, drawing blood. The man was in pain and after a short fight, he snapped her neck and killed her. 

Weirdly though, Inej woke up after some time. It made no sense to anyone. Not to the other girls, Tante Heleen, the doctor, anyone. Inej should've been dead. Instead all she did was crack her neck and describe the guy who did it. 

The next day Kaz Brekker came and she introduced herself. The day after that, she no longer worked for Tante Heleen. 

Turns out the vampire who attacked her was a newborn. He had some of the vampire strengths, like advanced speed and strength but he also still had human qualities. Like human skin, instead of the impenetrable skin older vampires have. Kaz was hunting him down because his uncontrolled killings were causing a ruckus, that's when he met Inej and noticed something was off about her. She smelt like death.  

Inej turned instead of dying because when she bit him, it drew blood and she ended up swallowing it. Drinking a vampire's blood then dying was another way to be turned. 

Because she was terrified when it all happened, as a vampire blood tastes better if it's from someone scared. The more scared they are, the better. If she drinks normal blood, it tastes fine but it doesn't make her as strong or taste as good as blood from someone frightened. 

Inej doesn't really like going out of her way to scare the shit outta someone. Don't get me wrong, Inej ain't no punk but she sees it as “I'm scaring people for my own benefit? No thanks”. 

During her newborn stage, Inej was not fucking with it at all. There were benefits but she hated the idea of murder. The only reason she started drinking is because she was starving and Kaz threw a random person in the room. When she snapped out of it, she was horrified and she was angry because Kaz knew what he was doing. 

So she attempted to run away but the problem was the hunger obviously didn't stop. One day she saw a man she knew frequented the Menagerie. A man who was extremely abusive and had cut and injured the girls plenty of times. Again, she got angry. So angry she stalked and killed him. 

A lightbulb went off. She didn't wanna scare innocent people but abusers? They weren't innocent. So that's who she targeted. Oh and obviously she returned to the Crow Club. 

Only problem with abusers is unfortunately they have money and people looking at them so she can't go after a lot of them which leaves her back to drinking regular human blood. Sometimes she drinks from animals or steals blood bags. 

Best part of vampirism is how nimble she is. Sure she was a great acrobat before but her speed and agility change is the best to her. She could do so much more without worrying about forever losing her legs in a stupid accident. 

She's called a spider for a reason. 

I don't even think she'd care for the other powers. Yeah they're there and she'll use them but she's not too concerned. 

Worst part I think is the feeding but not for the same reasons as Kaz. Inej has a guilty conscience and she's also religious. I think the fact that she has to take innocent lives (when she can't get to bad people) would make her feel cursed. Like the Saints were against her or didn't hear her prayers anymore. How could she claim her heart belonged to them when her heart didn't even beat anymore? She was sinning often. It's not like killing on a job, that's when your back's against the wall. She's literally killing for her own selfish needs. 

It'd take her a while to come to terms that she's killing for survival and she never asked to become a vampire in the first place. 

Once she comes to terms with that I honestly don't see her using her powers for straight nonsense. She uses them to get jobs done and feeds when she has to. She's probably the one bringing Kaz take out when he's too lazy. 

Idk why but I feel like she'd have purple eyes. I don't have a reason. Just roll with me. 

Overall, she'd have conflicting feelings. The first couple years would be rough but she'd learn to embrace it. 

Jesper Fahey

Jesper is my favorite Crow and my favorite in the entire show but my poor babe is not all the way there sometimes. He's not dumb by any means but ya know, sometimes he's in a silly goofy mood. 

Jesper was turned when he was in college. Keep in mind, my boy was only there for what? A WEEK?

He lost at a game of cards and instead of beating him they were like “there's this book that a dead witch supposedly wrote. There's a ritual and everything, you gotta do it or pay me”. 

Jesper was like “bet, I ain't no hoe” (probably not with those words) and did the stupid ritual which consisted of blood, rain water and some chanting and nothing happened, much to the disappointment of his college pals and him. The ritual was supposed to give him powers or something. Too bad. 

Something weird started happening. Jesper was a funny guy and liked socializing but he swore he started feeling more energy course through him when he made everyone laugh. And when he walked outside, the sun burned. It left a mark and everything. 

He started skipping classes to avoid the sun and the kids he knew were too busy to constantly visit him. Since he was alone for a couple days, he felt incredibly hungry. 

One late night he was walking to get food when a lady fell hard. Jesper, being nice, ran over to help. That's when he noticed the smell of blood and it smelt amazing. Long story short, he ended up attacking her. When he realized what happened, he took a closer look at that book. He realized they didn't inform him about the negative side effects. And sure, he somewhat got it. What were the chances of it working? But since they made him do that instead of paying up, they knew there could've been a possibility of everything going left. 

He had no idea what was happening and ended up leaving college. Not only was he out of money (that's why he was so glad he wouldn't have to pay) but he worried about who else he would attack. He ended up working for gangs and as we know, Kaz found him. 

They ended up finding out that Jesper was special. Jesper was always the main focus in a crowd so when he became a vampire, that ability turned him into an emotional vampire. He didn't have to hunt people down and feed the old fashioned way. He could feed on people by absorbing their emotions when they felt a strong emotion, such as happiness. It made him feel amazing but it made them feel drained and depending on how much he took, they could faint. 

Now he could always just bite people but absorbing emotions is bigger. 

Best part of vampirism is hypnosis. If he's well fed and feeling strong, he can just hypnotize his gambling opponent into letting him win. 

Worst part is probably the sunlight. Jesper likes nighttime, don't get me wrong, but the fact that he's limited to only moving around at night is nuts to him. Since he shouldn't be doing it, he wants to do it more.

Jesper has to be reeled in by Kaz when it comes to feeding cause Jesper honestly will go after anyone. The more challenging, the more fun. He has to constantly be reminded that the more challenging, the more chance of being caught.  

He also reminds him that he doesn't have to bite people to feed but Jesper sometimes just likes the rush. 

Probably makes a bunch of vampire puns and Kaz is tired of his shit. 

He'd be even more on edge when it comes to his dad. It'd be even more of a reason to never see him again. He would only think about it when he 100% had his hunger under control. 

Idk what eye color he'd have tbh

Overall likes being a vampire but the side effects are there. 

Nina Zenik

After Nina took Parem, things didn't look good. It was obvious to everyone that Nina was dying. 

Nina was in the know when it came to vampires. She honestly didn't care and didn't have any interest at first. But as she sat there slowly dying, she wondered what life would've been like if she asked to be bit. 

The Saints seem to be listening because Inej walked in and said she wanted to help her. Nina knew how she'd help. 

Inej was getting closer and Nina couldn't help but feel nervous. Suddenly though, she saw Matthias. Inej simply made her think she was Matthias, but Nina was so delirious that she actually thought it was him. She thought of their life together so far and what they could have in the future. Her thoughts started to slip towards something more lustful and that's when “Matthias” shoved “his” bloodied arm at her. She drank it then her neck was quickly broken. 

She awoke soon after, beginning her new life. 

Nina is a sexual vampire, meaning blood tastes the best when it's someone experiencing feelings of lust or orgasming. 

Matthias experiences lust for Nina and has said she can drink from him but she doesn't trust herself. She's worried she got him out of Hellgate only to kill him later on. 

Instead she flirts with unsuspecting men and women. No sex obviously and they don't taste as good as they could but just that little bit of lust adds something to their blood. 

Best part of vampirism would be immortality. She's living forever with her family and doesn't have to worry about getting sick or dying again. 

Immortality is also the worst part. Matthias has always said he has no interest in being a vampire and the thought of him dying makes her think she should've let herself die on the boat (until she changes him against his will but moving on-)

Probably targets men and women with low level jobs. Like the people who guard doors of some building, rich people go to. Or fishermen. People whose disappearance can just be chalked up to them being irresponsible. 

Being a vampire is kinda in the middle for her. Not great but not terrible. Sometimes she wants to go outside during the day and can't. Sometimes she wants to eat something like garlic bread and can't. Sometimes she wants to wear silver jewelry and can't. It can be a real pain. 

When Matthias is human she treats him like he's delicate, because compared to her, he is. They arm wrestle and he's down for the count. 

The stereotype is that vampires sleep in a coffin but with how big Matthias is? Yeah, no. They'll just sleep in a dark room. 

Nina doesn't exactly want kids, but with Matthias she wouldn't mind them. Now they can't have them at all though and that choice being taken away isn't fun. Honestly any choice now taken away rubs her the wrong way. 

I feel like her eyes would also be red like Kaz. 

Overall is half and half about vampirism. 

Matthias Helvar 

As we all know, Matthias ends up dying in Crooked Kingdom. He didn't want it to happen, but he accepted it. He knew this would be the end. 

Imagine his surprise when he woke up months later. 

Turns out Nina wanted to turn Matthias into a vampire but acted too late. She ended up finding a witch who was willing to do a ritual to return his spirit to his body. Side effects would be symptoms of vampirism. 

As you can imagine, Matthias was very unhappy. Nina didn't have the excuse of “oh I panicked”. No. She found a witch and instead of asking for her future to be told, she whipped out his corpse. 

As a vampire Matthias is a soul vampire. When he feeds it decreases the lifespan of his victim, sometimes even killing them. As he gets older he learns he doesn't even have to bite his victims, but he does have to be close to them. 

It'd probably take years before he forgave Nina. Matthias, like Inej, is religious and thinks Djel can't hear him anymore because of what's happened. 

For awhile he can't see a positive to this situation. When he comes around to it and starts accepting it though, I think he'd enjoy that he's strong enough to continuously help people. 

Negative is everything for a while. Especially the fact he can't be near any holy items. Also immortality. Human lives are supposed to end, now his can't end without it being extremely painful. 

Feeding wouldn't be easy for him either. Not biting them allows him to disconnect but he still knows what he's doing and that's hard for him.

He eventually would forgive Nina but would never forget what happened. 

His eyes would remain blue but it'd be a lighter and more glowy (?) blue

Doesn't wanna participate in any vampire stereotypes. No coffin, no dark colors, none of that. 

His feeding is the most discrete. Jesper's could be too but we know him. Matthias just kind of hangs around and feeds until he's full enough. 

Matthias also drinks the souls of animals. It doesn't feed him as quickly or make him as strong but he was already a big and strong guy. 

Overall is not having a good time. I think it would take years for him to accept his new life. After that, he's not exactly happy. He's just accepted it is what it is. 

Wylan Van Eck

Wylan had a terrible relationship with his father, we know that. What everyone didn't know was that the family was holding a huge secret; Jan Van Eck was a vampire. He was turned after Alys became pregnant and thought things were great. Now he could be an asshole forever 

Van Eck noticed how much better he felt so he thought if he bit Wylan, he'd be cursed of his dyslexia and could read. 

He was wrong. Dyslexia isn't a physical injury so nothing happened. This made him angry and ended up leading him to hire people to kill Wylan on the boat to Ketterdam. As we know, Wylan escaped. Van Eck was sure he'd die because of lack of food or be exposed and killed. Either was good to him. 

Wylan didn't die though. Wylan had only been a vampire for a month so his control over his thirst was terrible. He didn't wanna hurt people so he tried to stay away and hunt animals. 

Not hurting people was easier said than done though. Ketterdam is full of people and jobs require you being around people. As you can imagine, there were a few slip ups. 

Kaz recruited him not only to make bombs but also because Inej caught him feeding on someone. He just didn't notice she was there. 

Once Wylan has his thirst under control, he prefers blood bags instead of actually hunting and hurting people. 

He isn't sure what his favorite part of vampirism is since the things he loves doing (chemistry and music) don't require any vampire things. He likes telepathy once he knows how to block his own thoughts from people. It's efficient being able to “whisper” to other people and Wylan is a bit nosey. When you're gonna live forever, you're gonna wanna hear drama. 

I think his least favorite part wouldn't be a specific part of vampirism. He'd just hate how he used to be. Whenever he thinks about how little control he had, it'd scare him. It shows how much of a monster he can be and he doesn't want that. 

I wanna give everyone red eyes but I'll say his are orange or yellow. Why? Idk. 

The type of vampire that legit forgets he's a vampire. Inej is like “want me to bring you back something to eat?” and he's like “oh sure. I heard this new spot just opened-”. 

Probably was gonna walk outside for a casual walk and another Crow had to grab him by the collar and pull him inside. 

“What's wrong?” “Wylan. The sun.” “What about it?.... oh”

This isn't me saying he's dumb, he just genuinely forgets. His mind is on other stuff all the time. 

Vampires become his hyper fixation and he starts saying random ass myths about vampires at all hours 

“Did you know people used to believe that you could trick a vampire by throwing things like rice at it? Supposedly it'd be compelled to count them all” “It’s 2am Wylan. Enough is enough”

Overall I don't think he has a strong opinion on being a vampire. Having his little family makes enjoying this new life easier. 

idk why this in particular finally gave me inspiration, but FINALLY my mind isn’t completely blank.